The Man Who Walked Alone
by GeorgeTI
Summary: A story of a man, after the fall of Lescatie. Follow him as his steps lead him through a road of grief and darkness.
1. Prologue

This series was first published at my account at the fan wiki of the monster girl encyclopedia. It was a nice experience to write it, but the feedback was almost non-existent. So, here I am, after a VERY long absence from the site, to try and re-kindle my interest for writing and improving my English skills. Minor typos may still exist; I would be grateful if you pointed them out. The story has many R18+ moments (mostly sexual). It is, after all, a story of monsters from the MGE universe ;-)

* * *

"Gather round, children, it's time for the bedtime story."

"Grandpa, grandpa, will you tell us about the Fall of Lescatie?"

"Hush, you! It's not *grandpa*, it's Father! Show some respect!"

"Come now, children, no fighting..." the old man smiled tiredly.

"No, that story, I told you many times over... now I'll tell you of a story that few know, a story of a man consumed by grief and despair. A man who carried the sins and faults of us on his shoulders, and managed to forge this truce that we now enjoy. It's not a happy story, mind you... so Lana, don't be too sad and disappointed." The old man smiled again.

The girl named Lana smiled awkwardly.

"But I can say this: it's a story you must all remember. It is important to know, when the burden you choose to bear is too much, and when you have to rely on others. And most importantly, when not to try to shoulder it all by yourselves. If the Fall of Lescatie has taught some lessons, one of these is this."

"Will it have monsters?"

"Yes, William, it will have monsters."

"Cool!"

"Hush, now, we want to hear the story!"

"No fighting, children... now where was I? Oh yes... So our story begins with a young mage, fresh out of the Magical Academy of Lescatie. He had left the city a few weeks before its fall, and so he was spared the horrors. So one day, this young mage, decided to do something about it. He realized he wasn't strong enough to take on the monsters infesting the city, so he joined the Knights of the Order. There he trained in both sword and spell, yet he went through many pains to hide the latter. At day, he swung his sword and trained in his heavy armor, and at night he studied under the light of lone candle."

"That must have been tough!" said William.

"Oh yes, it was tough, but that man had decided to go unaided and unknown. In his mind, his skill would be something to hinder him, if it were known. So he practiced magic in secret, at night, trained at day, thinking of the day he would retake Lescatie back from the monsters."

"But he was just one man, Father! How could he go against so many?" Lana asked.

"Oh, but that was something the man was wondering himself, after the fall of the city. His plan was to challenge the rulers of the city, the strongest monsters, and defeat them in single combat. So, after he was knighted, he donned his armor, took his horse, and took off to Lescatie on his own."

The children held their breath.

"The people in the nearby villages said they saw flashes in the sky, thunder striking down, and the city in flames. But, alas, none dared approach the city itself. So, after a week, the knight's horse returned, alone, and on top of it lay the knight's armor in a bundle. None heard or saw the knight since, but a few days after, an emissary from the Demon King came, offering a truce between the Order and her forces."

"That's just dumb. They took Lescatie, when it wasn't theirs! And they didn't give it back. Why did we agreed?" William said with a scowl.

"Oh, William, the world of adults doesn't work that way." the old man said with a smile.

"A grand council was held, and it was decided that we should take that offer, and try to rebuild our forces and loss after the fall of the city. And here we are today, where we remain ever vigilant, yet still peaceful."

The old man sighed and rose slowly.

"And that is today's lesson, children. Don't follow in the footsteps of that man. His grief and anger made him go through hell, never to be seen again. That means that you must know when you can't do something, and ask for help. It's something that can destroy you, trying to do everything alone. But for that you'll need friends. And to make friends, it means you must not fight among you." The last lesson, the old man delivered with a wink at the boy.

"Come now, it's time for bed. Don't forget to pray, and to keep quiet after the bell rings."

"Yes, Father!" the choir of the children's voices echoed in the small room.

The old man watched, still smiling, as the children walked to their beds, after offering their prayers to the Chief Deity. After extinguishing the candles, he made his way to his own room. The darkness hid his own dark expression and the cloud over his eyes.

Opening the door from the children's bedroom and out to the courtyard, ha was greeted by the moonlight of the full midsummer moon, and a knight who was leaning casually on the wall.

The old man acknowledged the knight with a nod, and the knight stood upright.

"You know that I could arrest you for telling the story of the Forgotten one" the knight said with a frown. "It is forbidden to even speak his name-"

"Spare me your threats, Commander" the old man answered, but his voice was loaded with fatigue and sorrow. "He was once your most promising knight. He even saved me from myself. And we repaid him with burdens, and an impossible duty-"

"It was his choice, old man. He knew what he was in for. Hell, it was him that actually came up with it!" the knight's voice betrayed his irritation, and a tinge of frustration.

"Maybe so" replied the old man, as they both walked across the courtyard. "But still, it was something we participated, something we agreed. We have his blood on our hands too, and that burden will be on my shoulders till my grave."

"You dwell too much on it, Father" the knight replied. _Who would have thought, that one of the top priests of the order would step down and choose to be a caretaker at a no-name orphanage. _But the knight didn't voice this thought. "In the end", he continued, "he accomplished something that we failed to do for years; he actually gave the monsters pause. I don't think he would be angry or disappointed at you, or me."

The old man looked upwards, and the moon reflected in his eyes. "I wonder, did he survive? Is he looking us from above? You don't know how much I've prayed, begging to be given a sign to settle my thoughts and calm me. Something to tell me what he has found peace at last."

The knight remained silent. Only their footsteps broke the night's silence.

* * *

Greetings everyone. English isn't my first language, so there may be a few errors here and there (and over there too). Criticism is much appreciated. I can't pinpoint the fic to a certain genre; it has some intense moments, some angst, some bloodshed and violence, some funny and/or ridiculous moments, some R18+ moments, and maybe some more as I go along. And it is getting long. Like, _really _long. Also, irregular posting is my modus operandi, I may post two or three chapters within a day, and leave it for a month. Enjoy.


	2. Chapter 1: The calm before the storm

A/N: Sorry about the first post, I seem to have some technical difficulties :/

* * *

"Have a safe journey, Alatar! And don't forget the scrolls I ordered!"

"Yes, yes, headmaster" a young man replied to the old mage standing by the road. _Why the hell does he need me to do his errands? Haven't I graduated already?!_

The young mage pulled the hood over his head and shook the bridle lightly, urging his horse forward. The light morning breeze was not that cold, but for a shut-in mage it would be fairly annoying. His navy blue cape fluttered in the wind, exposing the red robe with gold trimming underneath. All mages that graduated the Magical Academy of Lescatie were given red robes, tailored from the finest silk, along with their first spellbook. His own now rested in his backpack, safely secured on the horse's saddle. On his brown leather belt hang a small dagger – more likely to be used against apples and parchment, rather than actual defense. A small golden amulet hand by his neck, and the horse's trotting made it jump around, making the mage to occasionally grasp it to keep it inside his robe. His soft brown leather boots didn't have spurs, like the knights' or the messengers', but he wasn't in a big hurry; this was another errand the headmaster pushed on him, as usual.

The journey would take him a couple of days, and he intended to make good use of this time off his duties as a wizard at Lescatie; after all, newly graduated wizards were given the most menial, dull and sometimes just outrageous tasks. He snorted in frustration; being errand-boy was much better that tidying up the city's library, or cleaning the cauldrons. Now why the heck did they need wizards for that and not use initiates, was something he never understood. The headmaster offered some nonsense about dangerous books and unsteady potion remains, but that was just excuses. He suspected that the real reason was the older mages, and how they wanted to intimidate the younger mages. Show then who's boss. Such childish thinking.

Of course, there were exceptions. Even the headmaster seemed to go a bit quiet when that kid spoke. _What was her name again… Mimil Miltie or something like that. _He had been chastised many times for forgetting her name, but that was his nature; he didn't care so much for people. To him, the accomplishments and knowledge was much more important. And that kid certainly had a lot under her belt, much more than most, if not all, of the mages in the city.

* * *

After a couple of days, searching for the scrolls and the alchemical ingredients he was sent to buy, Alatar finally could look forward to his bed in the Academy and a quiet meal, away from the hustle and bustle of the roadside inns. It was late afternoon, and the shadows grew longer by the minute. Alatar urged his horse to go a little faster, settling for a brisk pace. The sooner he was done, the sooner he would get his rest…

But something didn't feel right, as he approached the city. There were no people tending the fields, and the nearby forest seemed oddly quiet. And while the sky behind him was tainted red by the setting sun, the castle towering over Lescatie kept a purple haze over it-

Monster's mana. He felt it blast in waves, shaking the wheat fields gently, like an ominous wind.

"Is the city under attack?" he muttered.

His horse was growing restless, and he got off it,tying the bridle to a nearby fence. Horsemanship wasn't something he was good at, and a restless steed could prove a liability to a mage like him, especially on the battlefield. His heart started beating faster. Something was seriously wrong. Lescatie was the home of many prominent figures, what lust-crazed monster would dare to attack it?

As he approached the gates cautiously, his hands begun shaking. Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself. There were no guards at their posts, and the gate was wide open. His mouth went dry – that was something against the direct orders of the commanders. As he approached ever closer, another wave of demonic energy hit him. He quickly conjured a barrier to shield himself – demonic energy, even when not pushed directly inside a male, could very well turn him into an incubus. He quickened his pace.

However, nothing prepared him for the sight that greeted him past the main gate.

The signs of battle were everywhere – dropped weapons, torn-off armour and clothes, broken equipment and carriages. Yet that wasn't the most horrifying part. A dozen succubi were straddling atop the men of the garrison. The air was filled with their moans, as well as the groans of the men beneath them. The area was thick with demonic energy and the smell of sweat, semen and vaginal liquids. Most men had succumbed already; they held their partners from behind, ramming their hips upwards, colliding their bodies even harder with wet sounds.

However, one succubus was without a partner, looking gleefully around the scene, one hand on her left breast, the other between her legs. Her purple eyes locked onto him, and she flashed him a lecherous grin. With a flap of her wings, she dashed towards him. Alatar made a move to draw his dagger; an instinctual reaction to put something between him and the monster that flapped towards him, her blonde hair waving in the wind. However, the succubus proved faster and stronger; he had just drawn the steel blade from its holster when she was upon him.

"Oooooh, what do we have here?" she cooed in a smooth voice. She gripped both his hands with hers; her grip was soft, but incredibly powerful, or so it would seem to his untrained body. The dagger dropped from his hand to the stone pavement with a loud clang. "Don't be rude now, sweetie. It's not polite to draw this ugly thing when we've just met. Why don't you show your pretty face?"

Her tail moved dexterously and removed his hood. In the dim light of the torches still burning and the purple glow that covered Lescatie's sky, his short brown hair, brown eyes and short beard shone lightly. The succubus was delighted. "Oh my, such a cutie, hehehehe… why don't you tell me your name? I'm Veronica. Why don't you draw that other dagger you have down there too? We can get better... acquainted that way." The succubus' voice was smooth and seductive as they come, and her breath seemed to grow quicker and deeper. Her eyes shone ever so brighter by the second.

_Don't look at her eyes. Focus on her forehead. Fool her for a second, gather your mana. Then strike fast and hard._ A few pieces of advice he got from a friendly knight, as well as the Academy's frankly lacking battle course, popped in his mind. The barrier was still withholding the bulk of the monster's mana, but if it came to sexual contact…

"Oh, the silent treatment? Don't be shy now" the succubus pouted.

He took a deep breath through his mouth. "Oh wind, come forth, join the light..." he started chanting. The succubus' eyes widened. She moved her face closer to his, and he could feel his barrier weakening. She was trying to kiss him, to interrupt his spell. Thinking quickly, he did the only thing he could: he headbutted her right in the nose. While not the most noble or warrior-like thing, she was staggered enough to allow him to finish. "obey my command, smite the evil!"

Mana surged to his hands, turning into lightning around his wrists. The succubus' hands shook, twitching uncontrollably, as she let a strong scream. With tremendous effort, he shook his hands free of her grip. The thunderstruck succubus fell to the ground, still screaming, and curled into the fetal position. Around her, the frantic copulation stopped abruptly, as the other monsters looked up from their victims. He felt his blood freeze. There were too many, even for a squad of trained guards. There was no chance he could take them on in melee, alone. _Think fast, think fast… fast! The wind rider spell!_

"Oh wind, come forth..." he started chanting. Furious hissing ensued, as the succubi unmounted their panting partners and took defensive positions. "...wrap my legs in your embrace, carry me in your wings, obey my command!" The incantation was long, but the succubi didn't know any better. As a stroke of good luck, they thought he was going to hit them with lightning. While this was a tempting idea, he didn't have the mana necessary for so many opponents. The magical energy coiled around his feet, lifting him a little from the ground. Now it was time he made himself scarce; he had a few seconds before they gave chase.

Turning around, he started running for dear life. His wind-enhanced legs raised a small cloud of dust in each step, propping him forward faster. He saw out of the corner of his eye some of them gather around the still twitching succubus, while a few others gave chase. This was going to be dangerous. His lungs began to protest, as well as his feet. For a person who hadn't run more than the distance between his room and the classroom, that kind of effort was definitely more than he could handle. Luckily he caught sight of his horse, still safely secured.

He turned around. If the monsters came close and spooked his ride, he would be left stranded, and then it was a matter of time before they got him. He needed to get rid of his pursuers, and fast, before any more came to help. Two succubi were on his heels, their eyes glaring purple, their wings flapping hard. He concentrated and gathered all his mana. This was a risky choice, but his options were few.

"Oh fire, oh wind, join in unison, blaze, rage, destroy, OBEY!" mana started streaming down his hands. His face turned pale and sweaty; this spell required a VERY large amount of concentration and energy. Streaks of mana turned into fire veins, others into wind ones. They started intertwining, reacting and creating a small fire torrent. _Control the fire, don't let it go unhinged_, he heard the voice of his instructor as he kept pumping more and more mana into the spell. _A vortex is no good here, I need a fireball._

Concentrating intensely, he compressed the flame torrent into a tightly bound sphere and hurled it at the succubi that were charging to him. They moved sideways to avoid collision with the flaming sphere, but it was then that the magic bounds broke, releasing a fiery blast that shook them and knocked them off the air. They fell on the tall grass of a nearby field, screeching profanities. Alatar didn't wait to see the aftermath; he was sure he had hit their wings. Without their wings, and with their ridiculous high heels, succubi were no match for his horse. Better yet, they would be slow to go back and inform the others. Still feeling the rush of adrenaline, he mounted his horse and turned around to take a last look at the city. Some torches were moving near the gate; it seems that there were going to go after him. He just hoped that they hadn't released werewolves at him; their tracking abilities were second to none. However, there was a figure that made his blood freeze: a succubus with white winds, and silver hair. She stood among the torches, glowing with an inner light. He had only heard rumors and illustrations of this monster.

"A lilim… gods above, help us."

With that he turned his back to the city and rode as fast as his tired horse could manage.

* * *

Alatar galloped for two hours, putting as much distance as he could between him and the fallen city. After the adrenaline rush subsided, a mixture of emotions assaulted him. Terror at the loss of the second biggest city of the human world, bitterness at his own helplessness, regret for not fighting till the bitter end, and then taking down as many as he could… yea right, like he had the courage or stupidity to do that. His mind was conflicted; his reason told him that this was the best he could do, considering his training and experience. He felt something hot running down his face, and realized he was still sweating profusely and also… tears. He stopped his horse and led it off road, to a small clearing near the roadside. There was plenty of grass and a small stream nearby, so he decided to make camp here. The monsters might give chase, he reasoned, but staying on the road would be equally dangerous as venturing too much into the forest. Centaurs and werewolves and other beast monsters would prowl the deep forest after the city's fall, and flying monsters would spot him on the road easily. He took off the horse's bridle and tied the saddle to a tree near the river. Leaving the horse to rest, he turned to his own predicament.

He was tired and hungry, with only a few leftovers he was munching along the way to fill his stomach. He was also mentally exhausted; those two spells seemed to be his limit. He cursed his own weakness silently. Even though he was high in his class at the academy, it was mostly because he excelled at the academic and theoretical lessons to a frightening degree, but he was totally hopeless when it came to actually casting spells. His very limited mana reserves was something that troubled him for many years.

_It's late. I'd better sleep. God knows I need it._ He wouldn't dare light a campfire, so he wrapped himself with his cloak and pulled the hood over his head, and looked on a wide flat rock that would keep the bugs from under him. That seemed a god place to sleep. His hand reached for his dagger, before remembering that it was dropped when the succubus that called herself Veronica had made him drop it when she grabbed his hands. Cursing silently, he looked around for anything that could be used as an emergency weapon, in case he was ambushed. A long stick caught his eye, but he changed his mind, as it was still attached to the tree it was growing on, and he didn't have anything to cut it, not a tool or a drop of mana. Sensing the increasing fatigue grabbing his body and mind, he lay on the flat rock, using his arm as a pillow, and drifted off to face tonight's nightmares.

* * *

P.S. Chapter one is out, and more on the way. Criticism is welcome.


	3. Chapter 2: After the storm

The morning came like any other, with a clear sky and birds chirping. The morning fog, while ideal for covering your movements, also made things more difficult when riding. So, Alatar decided to continue on foot. His destination was the capital, where he had visited only two days ago. His feet began hurting and he grit his teeth. Books were good and all, but he really needed to get himself into shape; this was ridiculous. Even the most lazy stable boy and milkmaid could do as much without any trouble. He began making a mental checklist on what to prioritize when he got to the capital.

"Let's see… first, sell the horse. And the scrolls. I will need some cash at hand. No, no, wrong, first check with the garrison and the Mage's Guild. If they haven't learned of the city's fall, they must be informed at once. Then sell whatever I can, buy some equipment. Then… what?" he pondered. The wizards at the capital might help him, but he doubted they would spare much, in face of this disaster; all of their resources would be poured into protecting the city, and a no-name mage's needs would likely be ignored.

An idea struck him. He could join one of the military factions. Even a foot soldier got bed and board, paid by the city. He shook his head, as this was a frankly idiotic thought. With his frail body, even the farmhands would be better suited at this than him. He clutched the reigns harder. One memory he repressed began surfacing. He shook his head even harder. _Don't think about it! It is in the past now! _Yet the sight of blood was burned into his memory, and the lustful panting face of the succubus brought it up, even in his troubled sleep.

The sun rose quickly, dispelling the white cloak of fog. He mounted his horse and began galloping to the capital.

* * *

As he reached the capital, his heart calmed. The towers were filled with patrolling soldiers, and some mages too. The news, it seems, reached the capital fast. As he approached the gate, he saw a small crowd clamoring. Before them, some officials were trying to calm them down. A few knights, a mage and a high ranking priest listened to the crowd.

Many of the people in the crowd seemed to have seen better days; their clothes were ripped at places, and dirty. Refugees, from the look of them. He came closer. Some of these people might have some valuable information on what happened to the city.

The priest was trying to enforce order with the typical haughty manner common in high-ranking officials, but then a merchant said something that made all the blood drain from his face. He snapped at the merchant, but others seemed to agree with him. His ear caught a name: Sasha Fullmoon.

The priest looked very sick, all of a sudden. His overweight body hunched and trembled. Alatar quickly closed in on him. The mage caught sight of him and came close as well.

"Greetings, fellow magister" he greeted. Alatar pulled the hood from his eyes. Instant recognition hit him. "Alatar! Good to see you escaped all of this!"

"Nice to see you too, Pallanto. It seems the news are already here. Can we get to an inn or a tavern? I am starving and tired."

"Yes, yes, let's get you inside. Let's get the head priest too; the news about his daughter hit him hard."

The mage called Pallanto wore the same red robe as Alatar, albeit cleaner. He turned to the priest, who seemed to have trouble standing.

"Come, Father, let's go somewhat private. A strong drink will help. Trust me, I know."

The priest looked up, his face in a daze. The shock must be great, Alatar thought.

* * *

The two mages helped the priest in a modest inn, where they told the host to give them a private room. As they sat around the table, the host brought a bottle of strong liquor and three mugs, as well as some bread and roasted lamb. Alatar didn't stand on ceremony; he tore through his meal as if it has insulted him.

"Well well, look at that! The genius whelp can actually get hungry!" Pallanto teased. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement and his wavy hair shook with his laughter.

"Please, not now, Pallanto. I've had a… rough night."

Pallanto became serious. "This is a clusterfuck on all accounts, Alatar. We got information that the fall of the city was actually an inside job."

"!"

"Yes. It would seem, as all witness accounts, that most powerful people inside the city were turned into monsters, and attacked the city from within."

"You mean..."

"Yes, Willmaria Noscrim, that brat Miltie, Merce Dascaros, Primera Concerto, even Princess Francisca. And..."

The priest took a gulp of the liquor and slammed it down the table. "It can't be! My daughter was blessed! She wouldn't succumb!"

"...and esteemed priestess Sasha Fullmoon."

Alatar told them of the lilim he saw at the city gate.

"Damn. We had reports of the lilim Druella in the area, but this… the priestess is different, Alatar. She wasn't turned by a monster. It seems… she fell herself-"

The priest moved quickly, grabbing the table knife. Pallanto jumped back, startled, but Alatar moved quickly, as the priest brought the knife to his heart. He grabbed the priest's hand.

"Enough!" he was surprised, as the other two, at the tone of his voice. "What will your suicide accomplish?" _Don't think about it, don't bring forth that memory, don't, DON'T!_

The head priest looked at him with startled eyes. Tears started running down his washed blue eyes. Alatar took a deep breath, and sat down. He filled his mug to the top with the strong-smelling liquor.

"Alatar…" Pallanto spoke, in half warning, half comforting tone.

"It's OK, old friend." Alatar said.

"I'm not old."

"Listen here, _Father_" he began talking again, with such disrespectful tone, inconceivable for a young mage talking to a head priest. He took a deep breath.

"When I was five, I lived with my parents at a village near the demon realm." The inner dam in his mind broke, and he fought to keep himself in check. "My father was a mage, my mother was the daughter of a local merchant. My father was responsible for defending the village and setting up wards to keep the demonic influence at bay. He was missing from the house often, trying to protect us, all of us."

He gulped down all of his mug in one swoop, and refilled it. The alcohol burned his throat, but he continued. "One night, after returning from a patrol, I was waiting to meet him. He was the person that drove me to learn magic. That night, we went to mother, to surprise her. He had this amulet..." he pulled out his golden amulet from his robe, " as a gift to her, for their anniversary. Don you know what we witnessed?"

Alatar emptied his mug again. "She had become a succubus, and she was fucking a stable boy on their bed. Their marital bed, where she had conceived me. She was in love with that fucker, and had been cheating on my father for four years." Alatar felt his hands shake, and motioned the mage to fill his mug again. "They were meeting outside the village for their adulterous relationship. It was there where they turned. My father..." he took another gulp from his mug, "...my father was… he took a knife, and killed himself in front of them. That bitch didn't even seem to care."

His voice and eyes hardened. "It was then that I felt it. The torrent of magic. One of the first spells father taught me. I set the house aflame, and burned their monster asses." The image of his mother and her lover, along with the body of his father, his hands streaming torrential fire, the sounds of his screams, the adulterous couple's moans turning into screams of pain, the smell of burning wood, hair and flesh…

He emptied his mug again. "My father committed suicide for a bitch in heat. I left the house and ran all the way to a nearby village. I slept in a barn. The next day I tried to pickpocket a mage to get something to eat." he smiled bitterly. "That mage was the late headmaster of the Lescatie Magical Academy. He saw something in me, and took me in. But I was the lucky one."

He took another deep breath. "The village was turned soon after. That amulet is my reminder of him, my reminder of what despair can do, and how it can destroy. Without my father, my village never had a chance. And he killed himself over…"

Alatar felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see it was the head priest's. His face was calm, and the tears were drying on his cheeks. He stood up, and his form no longer spoke of despair, but of a calm dignity, an almost divine aura.

"What is your name?"

"Alatar Moriatan"

The priest placed both his hands on Alatar's head. He whispered a prayer, and his hands seemed to glow a faint white light. "By my faith and by your penance, by your heart and by your pain, as seen before the Chief God, I grant you absolution. I am not worthy, but-".

The priest stopped abruptly, and looked as if the roof was talking to him. "I understand. Your will be done." Another prayer, and the priest's hands glowed an intense blue light. "By command of god, as seen before Her eyes, you are judged worthy. I bestow upon you the Hero's blessing."

Alatar felt his thoughts clear, and a strange comforting sensation coming from the hands of the priest. He never was the religious type, always preferring the cold logic and measurable effects of magic. This, however, was something… different.

The priest took off his hands and collapsed into his chair. "Thank you" he whispered.

"For what?" Pallanto, who had quietly watched this bizzare scene unfold before his eyes.

"For restoring my faith. For saving me from myself. I heard Her voice, after all this time." He sighed. "However, I won't be able to keep this position, not after this. I can't bear to face the altar, after what my daughter has done. I will resign."

Heavy silence fell upon the room.

"I will do what she did, before she fell. I will tend to a small temple and an orphanage in the slums. This is the least I can do, to make up for her sins."

"Alatar, what will you do now? The mages are in an uproar, they will surely accept any helping hand." Pallanto said.

"No."

Pallanto seemed stunned by the answer. "Are you quitting magic as well?"

"I never said that." Alatar's eyes were filled with a determination and fire that made him look dangerous. "I will enlist in the Order. As a soldier."

"WHAAAAAT?!"

"I cannot go on in this frail body. I cannot sit idly by. I will train my body and my mind. I will fight them with everything I have. Every tactic and trick I can think of."

"You sure do hate them. Monsters, that is." Pallanto said with a smile.

"I don't hate them for only that." Alatar answered. "It is another matter too, something entirely logical. We fight for our survival here. Not as a nation, or even as a religion, but as a species."

"Well, it seems it will have to wait until lecture time. However, let me remind you Alatar, that foot soldiers don't get much time off to pursue more magical research."

The old priest coughed lightly. "Perhaps I can help. As my last act of selfishness." He smiled. "Even God thinks it's fine."

* * *

P.S. Third chapter. A bit rushed, both in writing and in developments. Criticism welcome.


	4. Chapter 3: City of intrigue

The news of the head priest Fullmoon stepping down from his position shook the city profoundly. The gossip circles went wild with their theories: that the other priests thought he was an agent of the Demon King, that he fell from grace in the Chief God's Order because of his daughter, that he was sacrificed in a political game with the fall of Lescatie as an excuse, that he was an example and a warning for other priests… theories abounded, and the final act of the priest before his resignation went unnoticed by most, but not by all…

"What do you mean, I have to take him in the order of the Holy Light?!" the knight-commander shouted at the former head priest, now wearing a far less extravagant robe.

"This is an elite unit! Not even the sons of nobles can worm their way in! What was it you were thinking, Fullmoon?"

"Now, now, commander. There is no need to shout, I can hear you just fine." The priest spoke as if he was explaining things to a child, but without the patronizing tone that was typical of him up to now.

"I will shout as loud as I can! Do you think I will stand for this? If every whelp were to enter that order, our very efficiency and strength would go out the window! I saw that protege of yours, and I must say, even farm hands have better chances than him. What makes you think he is worthy?"

"He is a blessed one."

"Here you go about blessings!" the knight-commander growled. In this private room, he could speak aloud for matters that would otherwise land him in trial for heresy. "Noscrim was blessed, Dascaros was blessed, and look what good it turned out for them!"

The priest smiled serenely. He expected as much. The knight-commander was a practical man, who thought that steel, skill and wit was the best way to deal with the monsters. That belief made him commander of one of the most respected and feared units in the Order's military branch.

"This isn't something done for politics, Frederic. This isn't done for morale. This is my last wish. This boy… I blessed him myself."

The tension seemed to lessen from the man's face. "I swear, if it is one of the mind games for more political strength-" he cut himself short, when he looked at the priest's face. All of the tension and haughty feeling from the position of a head priest was gone from the now older face. He seemed… peaceful. He sighed. "...fine. I'll try this kid, but mark my words. If he is unfit, or he quits on his own, I'll have your hide for this. I really don't know what you're thinking..." he paused. "I'm sorry about your daughter. Is it true that you're stepping down?"

A cloud of sorrow darkened the priest's face. "Yes. And thank you. I'll be over the orphanage, if you ever need me." He smiled at the surprise on the knight's face.

"You are going to an orphanage.. in the slums?"

"Yes."

The knight-commander sighed. "Fine. I see you are serious about this one. I'll see to him." He pressed his seal over the document before him, on his desk. "Let's hope he is worth it."

"Believe me, he is."

"I will see about it myself. You know I won't pull any punches."

"He wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

The bell for the last shift rang, and Alatar jerked awake. He was sleeping on one of the books his colleague had lend him. He closed it and began preparing for the day. Polishing his armor and sword was a daily routine, and as he soon learned, it wasn't just for show. The sight of a shining, orderly and disciplined unit boosted morale for the troops on the battlefield, and sowed terror in the opposing force. That was a reason that the drills were hard and unforgiving.

"When you come face-to-face with a monster, it will be your skills and your condition that will determine the victor" he remembered the commander yell. "God helps those who help themselves, and if you are helpless on your own, don't hope to come through on faith alone"

The commander taught the unit's rookies himself. It was on a private boot camp, outside of the city's walls. Words like these would send another person right in court for blasphemy, and the commander received warnings every week or two at his desk about his conduct, which he then promptly threw in the fireplace. The only reason he wasn't on a pyre and burning alive, was that he was the commander of the Order of Holy Light.

Smiling, Alatar downed a potion of his own creation to clear his head from the drowsiness of sleep. It helped him greatly to pull through the day, but unfortunately it didn't eliminate the fatigue itself. There were days when after training he would sleep like a log and get woken up by the commander himself, with an iron boot on his face and cleaning the hallways after practice. His fellow knights mocked him for that, but he didn't care. His growth rate was big enough to be almost concerning. When he entered the order, he was just a scrawny young man. Now he had build up physique and discipline, as well as a new appreciation for the knights. At least the good ones. Combining the warrior's discipline and combat mindset with a mage's analytical thought and magic use seemed an unlikely combination to him at first, thinking that he would use each skillset separately, but when he actually thought it through, deep down both walks of life had some common basic principles. The battle trance that experience warriors had, was a lot like the meditation and concentration he had to exert when he was using spells. The muscle memory that enabled him to react on instinct and reflex was, in a way, the same ability that the powerful mages had, to fling spells without even thinking about it. And the training of his body showed him a way to increase his mana reserves. As was his body getting stronger by training it, his mind got stronger by practicing spells over and over, trying even those he wasn't "ready for". There were a couple of times when the commander had found him unconscious at the training grounds, after an exhausting training session with all four elements. He ate up treatises of all kinds, from military tactics to martial art techniques to magical seals and new spells. His analytical thought of finding and understanding the underlying principles served him well, when most others would just memorize without understanding what were the inner workings, be it battle tactics or magic spells.

The commander had been on his throat since day one, looking for the slightest mistake so that he could give him a hard time. It irked him to no end at first, but looking back, he really started to appreciate what this trial by fire had given him. Even as a mage, his motivation only perked up on things that roused his interest. Now, with the patience he got after long hours of repeating the same drill and spell over and over, he could set his sights on something and keep at it.

However, he lacked experience, and that was why he enjoyed talking with the battle-hardened veterans, both knights and mages. Thinking up new ways of battling monsters, devising new strategies and techniques and spells, as well as potions and devices, was his pastime in what little free time he had.

He finished polishing his armor and sharpening his sword. Today was a big day. After two years of grueling training, today was the day they… kind of "graduated" from the commander's boot camp and get their first assignment. First assignments were the proof that the knights were ready for duty, and what the few that made through it called jokingly "graduation diplomas".

The morning bell rang, and he cursed. He was musing too much, and he had to hurry to get fully ready. Opening his expansion pouch, something he made along with his old colleague Pallanto, he stuffed the book inside. The pouch was something that could make him rich, as Pallanto frequently pointed out, but Alatar reasoned that if it ever fell to monster hands, the results would be disastrous. In the space of a small pouch, one could store two rooms worth of items, but it could very well store monsters as well, while hiding their presence. If someone got such a thing past a city's gates, it would be a matter of hours before the city fell, and without as much as a warning or reaction.

He rushed out of his room and hurried along with the rest knights into formation at the courtyard. They stood in silence, as the heavy footsteps of the commander echoed in the morning air.

"Attention!"

"At ease, men. Today is your final day of fun." the commander spoke. "From now on you are active members of the Order of Holy Light… what's left of you." A few stifled laughs were cut immediately when the commander glared. "This is no longer training, men. This is the real world. These assignments are not patrols, or sweeping the corridors" his gaze rested a bit on Alatar "but real commissions, in medium-risk areas. You will be called to protect villages, train troops, or participate in sorties. You are now officially paid by the Order, and expected to carry out your duties to the letter. And most of all, never ever neglect your training and caring for your equipment. The fact that you made it through your training doesn't mean you get to slack off."

Two foot soldiers came, carrying a medium-sized box. The commander pulled a stack of scrolls from it.

"The men that I call, step forward."

He then started assigning missions to groups of three or four men, giving them a scroll with details, and also the cape of the Order of Holy Light, in white silk with their emblem: a silver cross bathed in golden godrays.

The men took it and left, to the market where they could show off their new status and purchase a gift to celebrate. The formation became smaller and smaller, until Alatar was left.

The stack of scrolls was gone too, and the last group of knights gave Alatar a puzzled look as they left. He started feeling anxious. What was going on?

"Alatar Moriatan"

He stepped forth, walking briskly towards the commander, his heart rate increasing in every step.

The commander didn't make a move to look further inside the box, as they both knew it was empty. Alatar's heart sank. What was going on?

"Oh my…" the commander said in a totally unconvincing tone. "It seems that I forgot your assignment in my room. How irresponsible from me." Alatar's eyes hardened. A secret assignment.

"Well, can't be helped. Follow me."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 3 is out. Criticism welcome. More on the way.


	5. Chapter 4: Shadows in the Light

Their steel-clad boots echoed through the halls as they made their way to the commander's office. He opened the door and motioned Alatar to come in.

He closed the door, after he flipped a small decoration that was beside it, and locked it. Alatar immediately felt the flow of magic.

"Sound barrier" he said before he could stop himself.

"Very perceptive, knight. But I should expect no less from your double life."

Alatar's anxiety grew. Knights were not prohibited from studying magic, but the animosity between them and the mages as well as the double effort required deterred almost everyone from pursuing both fields.

"Don't be so nervous. After all, your friends have told me quite a bit about your accomplishments."

_If I make it out of here, I'll rip Pallanto a new one._

"Oh well, don't blame them. They were quite worried, you know. What you did was reckless, to say the least. I have seen a few people try it before, and sometimes the result was… quite messy. Their mind broke, or worse yet, they turned to the demonic side." The commander sighed. "Anyway, I am not here to give you praise or anything. What I will tell you will not leave this room."

Alatar suddenly felt his stomach fill with hot and heavy lead.

"You are not to enter the Order of the Holy Light".

"!"

He felt his blood freeze and his heart skipping beats.

"Surprised? That order is an order for warriors. An order of open fight. Man to monster. No, you are not suited for that order." He motioned to a chair. He sat on his own, rubbing his temples.

"After the fall of Lescatie" he began after Alatar sat down, "some of us believed that we should take more drastic measures. Open fight is well and good, but that city was taken with stealth and cunning, exploiting the city's flaws in infrastructure and administration. Well, we learn, too. We devised plans, devices, tactics, heck, even spells. Yes, I told you, I am well aware of your double life. And yes, you are a major contributor. You'll be happy to know that many of them worked like a charm. Unfortunately we can't bring them in the open. Not until we are ready."

The commander sighed, and for some reason, he looked really old and tired. "We are losing this war, Alatar. For every man and woman we lose to the monster's side, their own forces grow. It's like those undead kingdoms of old. So what we can do now is keep what we have. Hit and run. Inflict damage on them while trying to hold our own. Try to rebuild our forces and make them ready. So, there is a faction inside the Order, the military and the Mage's Guild that firmly believes that, right now, we can only fight underhanded."

"And being someone with diverse talents, you believe I am a good candidate. "

"Correct. Their flaw right now, is their arrogance, because-"

"-unchallenged victory breeds confidence, unchallenged confidence breeds arrogance, and unchallenged arrogance breeds fall."

"Correct. How nice of you to actually listen to those lessons."

"Please get to the point, Commander. You called me here, so you must have estimated that I would accept. There is no need for any inspirational talk. Just give me a rational talk."

"Hmm… you know, when I saw you, I really thought you were going to quit after the first week. Heh, look at you now… " the commander smiled. "Fine then, let me ask you this: why do you want to fight monsters?"

Alatar thought. "Two reasons. The first is our survival. Our women turn into monsters, and our men into incubi. Monsters get pregnant at a much lower rate than human women, but their offspring is always a monster. Very rarely, and on exceptional monsters, did they give birth to an incubus. An incubus himself can't leave human offspring. Instead, he will turn the woman into a monster. Our birth rates are falling rapidly because of this, and the monster forces are in constant need of men to keep their population up."

"Impressive… I don't know how you got your hands on the report-"

"I wrote it. The top brass at Lescatie refused to even acknowledge the threat, saying that it was just natural because… monsters. I secretly sent the report to the capital, but..."

"It was the same here. Some people of similar mindset got hold of it in a drawer, and started thinking about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's good, you don't hate the monsters like a religious fanatic. That is imperative for acting undercover. Restraint and patience are key. The other reason?"

Alatar's eyes hardened. "It's personal."

"Hmm, your friends were extremely tight-lipped too. Oh well, I can't have everything. What it matters is that you don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because the orders you will get can be… difficult to execute. Especially for a knight. Underhanded tactics can mean poisoning water, assassinations, traps, dirty fighting. Like that headbutt you gave that succubus."

"!" Alatar felt, for the first time as a knight, his face redden and his lips drawing up in an awkward smile. His commander roared in laughter.

"Nothing under the sky stays hidden, kid. Still, it saved your ass, so you have an appreciation for these kinds of actions already. Seriously though, harassment operations can go on for years. What we do isn't noble work, but critical nonetheless."

"We?"

"Oh, I got ahead of myself." The commander rose and drew a cloak from his drawer. It was rougher than the silk cape of the knights', and it was black. The symbol of the order seemed ominous in the black background, and it was sewn at the inner left side of the cape.

"Welcome to the Order of Shadows."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 4 is out. Plot, plot, plot. Too much plot, but groundwork is better done sooner rather than later. Criticism welcome.


	6. Chapter 5: Dark deeds

A/N: Warning: See title

* * *

A cloaked figure strode through the woods. It reached a hill, where a tall tree made it an ideal observation spot. Kneeling before the tree, he rubbed his hands and boots with soil. Climbing in silence, under the cover of darkness, he reached the top and climbed on the small hunter's outpost.

Kneeling down, his hand traced the scratch marks on the wood. "Harpies… werewolves… " he sniffed the air "and succubi. Hmmm, popular observation post." He climbed down and planted a magical seal under the platform, and with an incantation he set it to explode after a specific level of monster's mana was in the vicinity. He climbed down, careful not to leave any clues, such as even a single hair; werewolves were tenacious trackers, and had a sharp sense of smell. He looked at the palace towering over Lescatie, it's purple glow even brighter than when he last saw it.

Alatar left quickly; it was certain that his smell would be already picked up by one of the werewolf patrols. The trap at the observation post would buy him some time, in order to get ready for them. He didn't have to wait for long. Tonight was a full moon, at mating period, so the werewolves were especially horny. With luck, he could take out three or four of them. However, if the pack was large, it would be time to leave. And fast.

A group of ten werewolves rushed, the alpha sniffing the air. Alatar watched with a small magical monocular four of them climbing a tree with extreme speed and agility.

Something flashed red, and a fire flower bloomed in the night sky, a testament to the tenacity and the defiance before the monster city. The explosion killed all four of the climbers, and scattered the others around. Unfortunately, the alpha female was not one of them, and quickly regrouped and riled up the rest of them. Sniffing around the tree, she picked Alatar's smell.

"Yes, mutts. Come to papa"

With a howl, the pack followed the smell. Rushing through the forest, they quickly saw a cloaked figure standing amid the trees.

"There he is! He's mine!"

The werewolves howled and rushed forward, rushing to be the first to rape. Their leader, however, lagged behind. She sniffed the air again. _Damn that bitch, she will be a pain._

"No! Stop!, It's a trap!" the alpha exclaimed, but the trap had already sprung; various fine threads rubbed with soil and leaves to cover their smell, had already snapped, and the red flashes signifying the detonation of the magic explosive seals danced in the forest's shadows. The resulting explosion, while not a fiery inferno like that on the observation tower, was far more lethal; concentrated with pinpoint accuracy, it blew its victims' bodies apart, even with minimal damage to the trees. The alpha's fur raised upright. She was alone, and very, very distressed. Her pack was gone before her eyes. Tears started streaming from her eyes, and a sorrowful howl ripped the night. She turned to the cloaked figure with eyes full of hate and lust. Just for this, she'd rape him till he died, day and night.

She approached cautiously, slowly and quietly, looking for traps. The figure didn't move at all, despite her growling. That only meant…

"A decoy!"

She had been had. This was just an tree's branch, covered with a piece of fabric that someone had wiped his sweat on. Still, she could use it to track the man. She took a deep sniff of the fabric, and started sniffing the air.

"I swear, sometimes you mutts can be annoying as hell."

The werewolf spun around, flashing her teeth. Before her stood that man, his scent was unmistakable. His black cloak made it harder to spot, but under the moonlight her heightened senses picked him up clear as day. She licked her lips.

"Oh, human, you are so gonna get raped to death for this!"

The man didn't respond, and just stood still. The werewolf feared he might have another trap set up, but he was standing amid the explosion area. She growled, and took a charging stance.

Surely, there was not another trick. Then why was she hesitating? Why were her instincts telling her to run? Why was her heart beating so fast? The answer came to her as a total shock: fear. This man brought to her feelings of fear. Not lust, nor anger. She dug her claws deeper in the forest ground to calm herself. There was no way a man would cause her to be afraid! She was the alpha of a werewolf pack, proven time and again!

She launched herself at him, as strongly as she could.

The man began moving before she even jumped, just as he saw her leg muscles contract. While sidestepping, he threw his cloak in front of him, which caught the werewolf's drawn claws. The pull was strong, and the cloak ripped a bit, but it managed to put a spin on the werewolf's body, causing her to lose control of her jump and hitting the tree behind him back first.

The unexpected impact drew the air from her lungs, and caused her to stagger for a second. That second was enough. She felt the man's boot, still smelling of dirt and grass, on her throat. She looked at the man's face; those eyes held no hesitation, and no mercy.

"Please" she gasped. "I have a family-"

The silver sword flashed, severing her head. Alatar wiped his blade on the decoy's fabric, before sheathing it. Monster's blood can be a big giveaway. Throwing one last glance at his handiwork, replied to the wide eyed severed head of the werewolf.

"So did I."

* * *

"This can't be… are you sure-"

"Of course I am sure! What, do you think I'd mistake their bodies for chicken?!"

"Calm down, Vanessa" The werewolf was clearly agitated enough, but still tried to control herself. "I am sorry, Lady Primera."

The leader of the werewolves of Lescatie started pacing up and down. This was highly disturbing, enough to take her mind from her lustful thoughts of copulating with her husband. This was serious. Someone was disturbing the peace, killing her pack. She would have to examine the scene closer, to determine if they were under attack.

"Vanessa"

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Call full alert on all packs. The males are to be protected inside the dens. Call lady Wilmaria and Lady Mimil, and lead us to the scene."

"Yes, my Lady."

* * *

"So, here is where it happened."

"I really hope you have good reason for dragging us all the way out here, Primera. I was about to pounce on Elt-"

"Can it, Mimil. This is serious. Dead serious. And who are these? Your escorts?"

"Just a bit of tutoring, Primera" Wilmaria answered. "Neither I nor Mimil plan on staying on power positions all our lives, so we train our successors! It will be worth it, as we will be able to spend even more time with-"

"I get it" Primera snapped. "Now stay focused. I lost an entire ten member pack here. It started as an explosion on the observation platform, so I sent another unit to investigate. They returned with these news." Primera's wolfish features seemed grim, as she faced the scene. "That's why I need your help. Mimil, you need to look for clues regarding the explosives. Wilmaria, you do the same for the battlefield. I have ten werewolves slain, and not a drop of human blood. This could be an invasion for all we know."

Her grim tone had a visible impact on them. Wilmaria and her succubus escort began searching the battlefield, while Mimil and her witch escort started looking at the explosion areas.

Willmaria studied the body of the beheaded werewolf. According to Primera, this one was the alpha of the pack. Following the tracks from the exploded outpost and taking careful note of everything in between, she explained to her aide:

"… and see here, Veronica, the bruise on her neck? Someone was stepping on her before the killing blow."

"Disgusting cowards."

"Quiet now, you are here to learn. The marks on her back look like she was hit with a large blunt object, or was somehow slammed to the ground, which I doubt; the werewolf girls are very good at controlling their movements, but still… hmmm, what's that between her claws? Some sort of fabric? We may be onto something here. Look around, see if there's anything that liiks like… dark linen."

Curious, very curious, this method. The rest of the pack were killed by explosives, yet this one seemed to have been confronted in melee, and at least grabbed the clothes of the perpetrator… her train of thought got derailed, as she thought of ripping Elt's clothes and mounting him on a moonlit night in the forest…

A sudden cry from her aide broke her trance. Veronica clutched a piece of fabric, sniffing it intensely.

"What was that, Veronica? This isn't what I told you to look out for… hey, are you all right?"

Veronica was sniffing the fabric lie a werewolf in heat. It couldn't be… but she wouldn't forget that smell, ever. Her body ached and throbbed, and her breathing became ragged and erratic.

"Come now girl, this isn't the time for this!" Wilmaria scowled.

Veronica turned her gaze, now unfocused, and flashed a lecherous grin to her tutor. "I know who he is."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 5 is out. The plot thickens? This is getting too serious. Hmmm... Criticism welcome.


	7. Chapter 6: The hunt

"What have you learned?" Primera asked.

Wilmaria pointed at the local map. "The werewolf unit came at full speed when they picked a scent, turning here, and four of them climbed on the observation tower."

"The tower was trapped", said Mimil, while a tentacle pointed at the tree. "This is a first, using explosives. This is not magic taught at the Academies. This is something recent."

"After the explosion, the rest of the pack dashed to this point" Wilmaria continued, "where the explosive snares were set. This is a premeditated attack. The snares were covered to cover the smell, but we're sure they were made from local plants, as to avoid further detection. Whatever attacked them, they are good."

"The leader's tracks show signs of slowing, while the rest of the pack continued here, where the explosions occurred. It seems that the attacker used this piece of cloth, rubbing sweat over it, to lure them. The leader managed to avoid the trap, and she seemed to have confronted the attacker directly." Wilmaria pointed at the respective areas as she was talking. "However, the fight seemed to be abrupt and short. One clean cut, one bruise. No blood, or an armor scrap, or a dropped weapon, or even further signs of battle. Just a thread of fabric between her talons."

"Get this fabric torn and distribute it to all the packs" Primera snapped. "I want every pack to memorize the scent. Mimil, can you tell me what fabric it is?"

"Linen, dyed black. Black gear is typical of squads working at night" Mimil replied. "I also used a spell to get what was the last image the leader saw." She chanted an incantation, and a blurry picture appeared before them, before becoming clearer. Veronica drew a sharp breath, and clutched a piece of the fabric she kept for herself even tighter. "It's him!"

"Veronica here says she knows this attacker" Wilmaria said with a sigh. This whole affair was turning too troublesome for her tastes. "He is a mage that escaped after the city's fall."

"I searched the records for that mage", Mimil continued. "His name is Alatar Moriatan. Fairly good student, but not that exceptional. He was sent on an errant the day before, and seemed to return the day after. But this is something I don't get: he holds a sword. He seems to have gone toe to toe with a wolf pack leader. He is described as very frail, even among the other students. Something doesn't add up."

"Thank you, all. I will ask Lady Druella for more patrols, and to inform the city guards to be on the lookout. This… this is unheard of."

As the participants prepared to leave, Wilmaria turned to Veronica, who was still clutching the piece of fabric with Alatar's sweat close to her heart. "Are you still keeping this?"

"I'll find him" she responded dreamily. "I'll make him mine!"

Wilmaria smiled. "That's the spirit, girl. Just don't do anything rash or stupid. Taking on a werewolf pack in heat is no small feat, even for a hero. And this one seems especially cunning."

* * *

Alatar was in a foul mood. Repairing magical equipment was damn hard, and that cursed werewolf had ripped his cloak. He channeled mana in the needle and thread and began repairing the ripped parts. While inconspicuous, that fabric had several wards on it, made by him, to protect him from moderate amounts of demonic energy, as well as mask the smell of his sweat, the heat from his body and the sound of his heartbeat. He would have to devise a mask, to mask the smell, sound and heat of his breath. But that would have to wait another day.

_I am turning more and more like an assassin, and less like a blessed hero, _he mused. Still, it was a productive week. Three fields poisoned, their produce destroyed, one supply caravan robbed and one bridge taken down. And to top it off, one werewolf patrol wiped out. Although the last one left him with worries. Was he too overconfident? He remembered his commander's words:

"Unchallenged victory breeds confidence, unchallenged confidence breeds arrogance, unchallenged arrogance breeds fall"

He would need to lay low. The forests were sure to be teeming with patrols, and the city would be on high alert. Still, he made some interesting observations. The werewolves' partners were being brought and kept together. He could use this to eliminate them in one fell swoop. No partners for the werewolves meant less breeding for them, ergo less security and tracking ability. His harassment mission started two months ago, at that office, but he proved to be a quick learner and a keen improviser. There was a shortage of goods in the city, if the caravans arriving were any indication. He would have to figure out a way to hit the water supply, or the places for mass gatherings. His plant poison worked wonders; the witches and baphomets were running amok in the fields, trying to take it out of the earth and make the fields fertile again. He had completed his report, along with details on his skirmish with the werewolf patrol. It would be useful to other agents across the border and inside the Demon King's domain.

With his cloak repaired, he tied his report, written in code, to the foot of an owl, who served as messenger. Birds of prey were unlikely to be targeted as food, since they typically taste horrible, and can defend themselves. Also, they can feed themselves, which is always a bonus. The owl flapped its wings and rushed towards the capital, soaring over the morning sky.

Alatar turned his attention to his current matter at hand: he needed a safe space to sleep. Usual places like abandoned buildings were out of the question now. The forest would be think with patrols, searching for him, and even though he covered his tracks as best he could, he couldn't shake the thought that he had missed something, and he was being hunted.

_After all, the line between being the hunter and being the hunted is paper thin. _

After some thought, he decided that his best bet was to break into a house whose occupants were away, or a basement where the owners didn't enter. It was a risky move, but totally contrary to usual logic, and that would give him an edge. After all, the safer place against an enemy is under their nose. The smaller villages surrounding Lescatie were the safer to try and infiltrate. Without much of a guarding force to begin with, and with many occupants leaving for the day to tend the fields, it would be ideal place to lay low, and maybe try to blend in and gather some information.

The fatigue from last night's adventures was starting to catch up on him, along with accumulated fatigue over the week. He had better choose carefully the location to infiltrate, and do so without many witnesses; people in small villages knew one another, and blending in was difficult. Perhaps a village witch had a country fair or an outdoor market…

The noise guided him true, and the werewolf patrols seemed less frequent here. Merchants hawked their wares, and monsters and incubi haggled for bargains. _Markets do seem a mass gathering place, _he thought, as he looked atop a tree on a hill overlooking the village. Coming a bit closer and climbing a tree again, he spotted a house in a back alley, that seemed in a state of neglect. There were no signs of inhabitants inside, no clothes hanging or flower pots, the doorway was dusty and the windows closed. He memorized the location and directions from his bird's eye view. _Speaking of birds…_

He quickly dropped from the tree, cursing. Harpies roamed the sky. He could make out some knights among the crown. Probably dullahans. Fortunately the house was near the edge of the village, and with a few close calls, he reached the house without encountering anyone.

He knocked at the door, and held his breath. None answered. He tried the door's handle. Locked. _Time for a bit of magic._ "Oh water, come forth, bend to my will, obey!"

A small flexible tendril shot from his finger, and after some careful prodding and a lot of concentration, the old lock gave way. Alatar re-locked the door, in case of unexpected visitors. Then he turned to the house and looked around. This seemed to be the residence of a woman ("or rather monster now" he thought bitterly) but it was untended for some time. There was a thin layer of dust over the furniture and the air smelled stale. This should be safe.

The bed was already neat and made, so he plopped right on, with his cloak and all. He would worry to cover his tracks later. For now, sleep called.

* * *

He was standing again before the gates of the fallen city, the air filled with demonic energy and the pants and moans of monsters and men copulating. He could see the lilim atop the castle laughing. He prepared to launch a lightning bolt at her…

"Here you are..."

He felt his barrier breaking, and the next moment his field of vision was covered with the face of the succubus Veronica, filled with lust, her violet eyes shining with desire. He tried moving, but his body wouldn't obey him.

"Now we can have aaaaaaaall the fun we want!"

He tried to hurl an incantation, to scream, to hit her, anything, but his body was frozen.

His eyes snapped open.

It was a dream, it was just a stupid-

Where was his cloak?!

"Awwwww, you woke up? It's fine, it's better to be awake."

He felt his heart accelerate, the blood rushing to his face and his crotch, and sweet pleasure filling his body. He was on his back on the bed he slept, with Veronica on top of him. Her fingers were intertwined with his, and his cloak was opened, leaving him open to demonic energy. Her face was just as he saw in his nightmare, and her eyes were locked in his. Her heavy breathing brushed his face, now riddled with sweat beads, causing a pleasant feeling-

Through sheer mental discipline and force of will he pushed the thoughts aside. He had to think, and fast. Demonic mana was rushing in his body, he had a very aroused succubus on top of him, looking directly into her violet eyes, and outside the whole city guard was looking for him. His protections were broken, and his weapons were out of his reach. The magnitude of his own predicament made him smile over the absurdity of this situation.

Veronica's smile broadened and her eyes shone even brighter. "I knew you have a wonderful smile... I could get used to see it eeeeeeeveryday " Her tail wagged rapidly over her. _I have to keep her busy and buy some time._

"Hi there… long time no see. How did you find me?" _Keep her talking._

"Oh, like you don't know, you silly silly boy! I have to ask you the same... this is my home."

"Oh, for the love of..." he spat out involuntarily.

The succubus giggled. "You know, I couldn't believe it myself. After a long day with Lady Wilmaria, searching for you, I return to my home for the weekend, and here you are, on my bed!" Her breathing was getting hotter. Was it the demonic mana?

"You know, after our meeting at the gate, I couldn't get you out of my mind, I wouldn't get married, I wanted you and only you." Veronica's eyes were so close, he could make out every detail. _Was that a tinge of red? Are her eyes changing colour? What the hell am I thinking?! I have to find a way out of this!_

"And finally here you are, sleeping on my bed The fallen one must really smile on me today!"

The mention of the fallen god brought forth the old priest in his mind, and his peaceful face. That calmed his agitated thoughts. It wasn't time for panicking. He concentrated as hard as he could. The demonic mana that entered his body was erratic and almost uncontrollable. His own mana reserves were not even half restored. Could he really harvest and use demonic mana? The very idea was madness, but he could at least try to contain it for a period. A barrier would do him little good at his present condition and company; Veronica seemed like a conduit for it, channelling vast amounts around her. She was certainly more powerful than when they last met. Then the craziest idea flashed in his mind.

Focusing as best he could, he started spiralling his mana creating a barrier vortex inside his body, and channelled a portion of Veronica's energy into it. If it could hold the succubus' influence at bay, maybe he had a chance…

His makeshift mana bottle seemed to work. _Now comes the truly crazy part._

Without warning, he slammed his crotch, thankfully still clothed, up and between her legs. The reaction was lively, to say the least.

"HYAAAAHNN " Veronica's eyes lost focus and her hands loosened for a second. But that was enough. Free from her grip, he slammed his hands on her buttocks, earning another high-pitched lusty squeal. Gripping them tight he propped himself upright.

"Oh darling, you are soooooo forceful! I love it! " Veronica moaned.

_Seriously, if I make it out of this, I'll never be able to live this down_.

Still gripping her, he jumped from the bed and grabbed his sword by the scabbard. Veronica wrapped her hands and feet around him, and brought her face ever closer.

With one hand on his sword and the other gripping her, the only way to avoid a kiss was to tilt his head, which he did. But how to keep her there and let him have a clear field of vision?

Alatar nibbled on her ear and kissed her neck, while Veronica kept panting and shuddering. He opened the door with his sword hand, and prepared to execute his craziest idea yet.

* * *

Chapter 6 is out. Speaking of crazy ideas...

Criticism Welcome.


	8. Chapter 7: The idea

Alatar stepped outside, with Veronica still clinging on him, panting and moaning. Another succubus passing by saw them, smiled and kept going.

_That's right, this is a demon realm, different rules._

Veronica was a local here, so there was a chance that he could pass as her lover without many questions. The very fact that she was clinging on him made it very awkward for him, and the amount of demonic mana she kept pumping into him increased by the second. He had to get out of the village and get rid of her.

_For the love of god, what kind of fucked-up scenario is that?!_

He started jogging, opting to pass from the market, via the shortest route. If anything, the guards would either leave them alone, or get her off him, which was a win-win. His bouncing step caused Veronica's crotch to slam on his own, now sporting an ever increasing bulge. Her pants echoed in his ear, and he could feel his inner core fill with her mana ever faster. There wasn't much time.

The hustle and bustle of the marketplace covered her heavy breathing, but the crowded plaza caused them to be pressed against each other even more. The most bizarre thing was that none gave two glances for them, when they were (seemingly) having public outdoors sex. Pushing through the crowds, he had to hide his face in the nape of her neck, and use her hair to cover it up. The dullahan, while suspicious of his cloak, once they saw Veronica, Wilmaria's aide, straddled on, just shrugged and moved on.

Passing by a stall selling magical equipment, something caught Alatar's eye. A series of big clear crystals in the shape of a sphere. He looked at the vendor.

"Greetings! Come to take a look with your wife, I see!" The merchant was all smiles, and Veronica, hearing the word wife moaned.

"Ehhm, yea, are these devil gems?"

"Why yes, the finest quality! Looking to make your engagement rings?" The merchant winked.

An idea began forming in Alatar's mind, albeit it became increasingly difficult because of the demonic energy that began to ever so slightly overflow. "How much do they cost?"

"Oh, for you it'll be a mere thousand coins each!" The merchant smiled his business grin.

"Oh… I seem to have left my purse back home, you see… we kind of… left in a hurry." Alatar put on his best awkward smile, which wasn't that hard, considering the situation.

"Hahahaha, I feel you. Nothing beats youth! No problem, my friend, I'll keep one for you when you arrive!" the merchant laughed heartily.

_Now time for a little sleigh of hand._

He opened his expansion pouch, and secured it on the hilt of his sword. "Come now, Veronica" With a measured move he turned to his left, slapping Veronica's ass and causing her to jump slightly with his left hand. The succubus' ample breasts jumped and jiggled, and the merchant's eyes fixed on them. With a low swiping arc of his sword, Alatar managed to get five of the devil gems inside his expansion pouch.

_Act normal. No running. This is ridiculous._

After he disappeared into the crowd he quickened his pace. The edge of the forest was close. However Veronica was coming around her haze, and that could cause him more problems if he didn't deal with it now. But what could he do? It would seem that ear nibbling, neck kissing and crotch grinding weren't enough anymore. He hurried into a back alley, secured his sword under his armpit and pulled out the devil gems from his expansion pouch.

A tingling began to form at the base of his neck. He would have to test his theory now. Drawing a mana potion to replenish some of his, he decided to infuse the smallest gem with the same magical construct that he had formed into his core, to absorb and contain demonic energy. Drawing several deep breaths, he tried to calm himself. Veronica's sweet scent had been tickling his nose for a while now, and her body, pressing tightly against his, had already left a lasting impression. His mind strained, trying to control the demonic energy pumped into him under control, and his male instincts weren't helping at all. He closed his eyes and focused all the mana he could afford.

Pure blue tendrils crawled from his hand down to his fingertips. They entered the gem, and began the same spiral. Alatar pushed the tainted energy trapped in his core to the gem and waited to see what would happen. How much would the gem be able to take? He had heard that such gems can store enormous amounts. What they meant by "enormous", that was something he would have to see for himself.

However the gem showed no sign of ever filling up. It kept absorbing… and absorbing… Soon enough, his inner pressure lessened. It would seem he could clean himself of monster mana, as long as he had demon gems and wasn't already turned into an incubus. The feeling of Veronica's tongue, licking the sweat from his neck and working her way to his ear, nibbling it lightly, just as he did, interrupted his musing. Since he couldn't get her off him yet, he would have to cause her an orgasm powerful enough for her to let him go.

_Never thought I'd even think of that._

As she nibbled his ear, causing wave after wave of her mana to enter his body, he whispered into hers "I hope you are ready".

Giving her ass a squeeze, he slipped his other hand into her crotch, and touched the wet slit carefully. _If I remember correctly…_

He started moving his hand in a vibrating motion, rubbing the bud over it intensely. Veronica's breath became erratic, and she started moving her hips, but Alatar held her firmly. Her heart rate almost doubled, and he could feel her heart pounding inside her left breast. All of a sudden, her fingernails bit into his shoulders, and her teeth sank lightly into his neck. Her body tensed and spasmed for many long seconds, before relaxing and clinging lovingly on his own.

While his escort/disguise/monster shield had her fun, Alatar was nearly panicking. The amount of mana the small gem could store, was indeed enormous, but the amount of mana a succubus channels when cumming was downright ridiculous. It was no wonder that monsters were so powerful, and kept looking for husbands. The small devil's gem was filled to the brim with enough demon energy to power a thousand magical lamps to burn non-stop for over a century. At least by his estimation. He drank another mana potion and created another monster mana absorbing gem. This was quite larger than the last one, which he carefully stored. Grabbing his sword (and Veronica's ass) he strode towards the forest, with his partner in crime basking over the afterglow of her orgasm.

* * *

Chapter 7 is out. What kind of madness is this?! Even my MC is making fun of me :(

Criticism welcome


	9. Chapter 8: The incident

A/N: Hint: yellow, sour, used in drinks and cocktails

* * *

Moving through the forest proved to be easier that expected. Veronica's massive mana signature kept most beasts and monsters away. However her arms and legs were firmly locked around him. The second gem was nearly filled, after three orgasms. While the amount channeled increased, the frequency she needed them increased as well. This was getting dangerous. Even the idea to use the sword came short when he tried it: her tail immediately reacted, grabbing his hand and making him throw it away.

He drank his last mana potion and changed all three remaining gems into mana absorption gems. He decided to complete the procedure earlier rather than later; this whole ordeal was chipping away at his willpower, his endurance and his very sanity. Having the embodiment of temptation glued on him and having to do complicated spells, talking his way out of situations and on top of that getting Veronica to orgasm, and all of this with him holding it in… his pants felt tight to the point of excruciating pain, and they were drenched in her love juices. Like it wasn't enough already.

After finishing with the gems, he rose again to put more distance between him and the city, but something slammed him right back with moderate force. He tried to look around, but a gentle yet firm hand grasped the back of his head and he found himself staring Verocina's mesmerizing eyes again.

"Not enough..." she cooed in his face, her eyes gaining full focus inside his. "I want more… more!" Alatar tried to pull her off him, to no avail. Her face was inching closer. _This is BAD._

"Why don't we talk abou- mmmmmmmmfffffff" Veronica's soft lips sealed his, and her tongue seized the opportunity of his open mouth to slip inside. His face went numb, with the exception of his mouth, where her tongue explored and wrestled with his. Being kissed was a first experience for him, and that made it harder to resist the electrocuting pleasure that rushed his brain. The influx of her mana into his body crushed any magical resistance he had set up, filling his body. He felt the three gems in his hand draining the demonic mana from his body, but the rate of absorption was clearly not enough; his body started filling slowly with torrential energy.

He felt something hot land on his cheek, and he opened his eyes. Veronica was crying silently, with her face still one of uncontrolled lust. After a good long while, she broke the kiss, and pushed him down on his back. Her breathing had calmed somewhat, but her flushed face betrayed her intentions.

"I've waited for this for so long… two whole years... ahh, I am burning up so much!" her voice, like oiled velvet, felt like it was crawling on his body, caressing it lovingly. Her tail quickly pulled off his pants and his swollen manhood stood upright, free of its confines.

Alatar's mind cleared up a bit, after the small reprieve. The gems in his hand felt warm, but he couldn't see how much were they going to be able to store. His thoughts were still chaotic, conflicting emotions clashing erratically.

"Stop this. I don't want to hurt you." he tried to bluff.

A small girlish giggle left Veronica's lips, as her tail wrapped around his manhood, stroking it teasingly. He could feel her juices dripping on it, hot and sticky. "Oh, but you have hurt us already, you bad bad boy! To take down a whole patrol, even Lady Wilmaria was impressed... but I expected no less from my hubby!"

_Damn, they already linked that to me. Keep her talking._

Her hands undid the buttons of his beige shirt under his opened cloak. She started stroking slowly his chest, smiling. "Oh my, what a nice toned body you got there! Have you been training for my sake? You had such a frail body when we first met, but I like this body too! We can go at it for soooo much longer..."

_The demonic mana is almost drained, keep her talking!_

"What, I caught the eye of the fallen bitch already?" he taunted. Veronica smiled and placed a finger over his lips. Alatar felt the heat and softness from her fingertip, and his heart jumped. "Now now, don't be rude to Lady Wilmaria, bad boy. You must be disciplined for such nasty words..."

_Fuck! That only riled her up!_

Her tail tugged his manhood towards her dripping orifice, and her nails dug lightly into his skin, as she leaned over him. Alatar began panicking. This was going very, VERY wrong. Her tongue licked the sweat from his cheek, causing a hot sensation.

"Not like this…" he hissed between clenched teeth. The tip of his penis touched her vagina's lips. "Not my first time with a damn monster..." He felt Veronica's hands cup his face, turning it into her violet gaze.

"It's all right… this is my first time too "

_And this is how I fall… I failed everyone…_

"I love you" Veronica whispered into his ear, thrusting his manhood deep inside her with one fluid motion. His fingers clutched the devil gems, his eyes rolled up and his mouth half-opened, soon to be sealed by hers in a passionate kiss. His body trembled, as the first sensation of sex, along with the feeling of her breasts on his chest and her deep kiss wreaked furious havoc on his mind and body. She started moving her hips, teasingly slow at first, but soon gaining in frequency and force. Her breath picked up pace, tickling his face, and her sweet smell invaded his nostrils, worming into his mind. The amount of magic being pumped into him swelled beyond what his battered seal could manage, overflowing and rushing all across his body, some of it drained by the devil gems in his hand, the other filling him with power and lust.

Their bodies slammed into each other with wet noises, with her tail pulling his waist up and down even harder. Her hands travelled all across his chest, face and shoulders and finally slipping to his back and neck. Her tongue explored his mouth even more vigorously than before, tasting his saliva and stroking his tongue, leaving a sweet aftertaste.

Alatar felt the mana rush to his head, and braced himself. After reading many reports and stories, mainly from monster-friendly countries, documenting the effects of monster sex, he had concluded that resisting the flow of mana would be ineffective, to say the least, like a solitary tree trying to stand up to a hurricane. His best bet to come through with his mind mostly intact was to empty his thoughts, resist nothing, and go with the flow, only exerting small pushes of willpower to try and control its flow. In theory. He pushed the devil gems under his lower back and tried to empty his mind.

Yet what came at him didn't even come close to what he imagined. His peripheral vision went white, his sensitivity skyrocketed and his hands moved on their own with newfound power, grabbing the succubus' bottom and slamming his manhood deep into her sizzling hot womanhood, their loud wet slaps accentuated by muffled moans… both hers and his. Almost all his rational thoughts were swept aside, his consciousness swimming amid a raging storm in a sea of pleasure.

His body was throbbing harder and harder, a dull ache rising from his core and moving towards his swollen manhood, completely sheathed inside her. He clenched his abs in a vain instinctual attempt to hold out, but that only caused the rush of pleasure burst forth with even greater force. Groaning wildly, he slammed her on him harder, the tip of his penis kissing the entrance of her womb, causing a shudder across her body. Her muffled groan and involuntary spasms were overshadowed by the tightening and spasming of her vaginal walls, and the terrifying amount of mana she poured through her mouth, her vagina and wherever her skin touched his; Alatar felt his neck tingle at her touch, as his whole body was swept away by waves of ecstasy, clinging on her and filling her insides with the proof of their deed.

It lasted almost forever.

* * *

Alatar had lost all sense of time, but the red sky above him hinted that it was either dawn or dusk. Probably dusk. He tried to focus his eyes, but the sense of comfort insisted he remained as-is. Focusing his willpower, he gathered his thoughts.

The weight pressing on his body was Veronica, breathing softly on his neck, her face nestled on his chest and her hands wrapped loosely around him. He tested the movement of his fingers. His body grudgingly obeyed him.

_Have we been fucking all this time? _

Another wave of comforting fatigue washed over him. His member was still sheathed inside her, hard as a rock, but the demonic energy inside him was relatively low. It looked like his gambit paid off, at least in part. He was not an incubus, and his mind was his. In theory.

_Now how do I flee?_

He tried to free himself out of her hot grasp. It was an agonizing procedure; his body fought his mind's commands, but he grit his teeth and slowly he pulled it out with a wet plop. Shifting ever so slowly he turned to the side, he put her to the ground softly to keep her from waking. He stood upright and looked at the devil gems, now shining brightly, before stuffing them in the inner pocket of his cloak.

His pants were discarded a few feet away. Getting to them proved equally agonizing; his feet felt like lead, his knees almost gave in. He put them on and closed his cloak.

His pants were still drenched with Veronica's juices. That would prove problematic if the werewolves followed that scent; he had to discard them at the first opportunity. He looked at the sky to get a sense of direction.

"Where are you going, hubby?" he felt her hot breath on his ear. He jumped forward and spun around. Veronica stood behind him, smiling alluringly. She looked different than the sex-crazed monster he carried out of the village.

"After all the fun we've had, you're going to flee?" she pouted.

"What do you mean, all the fun? You raped me."

"Oh, you don't remember? We've been at it for two days now. I never imagined you were such an animal in bed!"

_Two whole days?!_

"I must admit, I am impressed. You took so much energy, you even tired me out." she smiled. "Come now, let's go back to the castle. Lady Wilmaria must be worried. I'm sure you'll be accepted here." She extended her hand to him.

"No." His flat tone came as a sharp contrast with hers. "My will is my own. I will fight. To the bitter end if need be. I will free the city, even if I have to tear the very barriers of the ether." His eyes hardened, and he felt the seething hate boil inside him. Even the demonic mana in his body reacted.

"So stubborn… I love that -" Veronica's words were cut short, and a look of wariness came over her face. Alatar's eyes were glowing red. "Are you becoming an incubus already, honey?"

"Veronica! Here you are! Where have you been?" Wilmaria came rushing through the trees, with Mimil in tow. "What- is this the attacker?"

Mimil's sense of magical flow was their only warning. She shot forth a magical barrier, just before a shockwave of magical energy swept through the forest.

"What's going on?" Wimaria shouted, as she drew her dark sword. "Deal with it first, ask questions later" came the short answer from Mimil. The baphomet's usual childish tone was gone; things were clearly serious.

Alatar felt the intoxicating sense of power coursing through him, feeding on his hate and anger. _Of course, this is demon mana after all._ Striving to keep control over his emotions, he saw two of Lescatie's fallen heroes coming forth. Even in his rested state, with demon mana inside him, he knew he couldn't match them. Mimil was a well-known tactician and much better mage than he was, and Wilmaria was a much better warrior. The logical option was to flee, but he needed to distract them. Time to test if the demonic mana was any good.

"Oh fire, oh wind, join in unison, blaze, rage, destroy, OBEY!"

Crimson streaks rushed down his arms, joining. The magical reaction was violent, and the spell kept draining his demon mana, but the results were out of the old stories. The hurricane of fire made the hair on his face curl, gaining in power and magnitude. _This is something grand, everyone will see it. I must keep some mana for the wind rider spell._ He threw the inferno in front of him.

"Wind, water, come forth, join in unison, PROTECT!" Mimil was quick to conjure a protective ice wall, but the trees nearby spread the flames quickly. It would seem his last act of aggression would be one of arson.

"Oh wind, come forth, wrap my legs in your embrace, carry me in your wings, obey my command!" Dark torrential winds covered his legs, as he pushed the last of the demon's mana into that spell. His first step startled him. The power and speed were clearly two orders of magnitude above what he could do on his own. Luckily, his trained reflexes helped him navigate through the forest, running full speed away from the fallen city and into human territory.

* * *

P.S. Chapter 8 is out. Warning: lemons. This is my first truly raunchy scene, so...

Criticism welcome.


	10. Chapter 9: Planning

"I suppose you do have knowledge of what happened?"

"Yes, Lady Druella."

"Then speak, Wilmaria. I expect a good reason for letting that man escape, after all the havoc he caused."

Wilmaria went on to describe her encounter with the cloaked man. Druella's red gaze turned to the succubus beside her.

"It seems you are a more central person to this story, Veronica. Tell me what happened. Briefly, and without the nice parts. That can wait for later."

Veronica stepped forth, shaking from nervousness, fear and shame. She recited all she could remember, from her hazy memory after the encounter with Alatar on her bed, up to the frenzied sex she had in the forest. Druella's frown deepened.

"Find the merchant he spoke to. Check what he bought, and if he's missing any devil gems. Set the werewolves to follow Veronica's scent. Even after the fire, they should be able to pick up something. But don't venture too much from the city. It is more likely he has fled, but we have to make sure." Veronika and Wilmaria bowed and rushed to carry out her orders. She turned to the baphomets by her side.

"Lucella, Mimil, what do you make of this?"

Mimil spoke first. "The cloak he wore seems to have enchantments to ward of monster mana. Maybe some other masking ability too. That would enable him to avoid the werewolf patrols. Other than that… we can safely assume he acquired some devil gems. If he tried to charge them with monster mana, that would buy him some time before succumbing. Still, this requires constant concentration. Not only that, but the amount of mana Veronica released would be too much for a human. Her pent up desire went on for two years; the guy should already be a incubus."

Lucella seemed equally troubled. "It seems that human has more tricks up his sleeve. Or a special ability. Still, to deal with that amount of mana… we all sensed it. He couldn't have drained it all. After all, Veronica pumped it right into him for two days straight."

"I don't think he drained it all." Mimil's voice sounded grim. "When we found Veronica, he shot a fire spell. Fairly simple, quick to cast, but its magnitude was ridiculous for a human. It sounds crazy, but… maybe he found a way to utilize monster mana?"

"Don't overestimate the human, Mimil. A human using monster mana for anything other than copulation is nigh impossible. He doesn't seem to have the focus for this." Lucella countered. She turned to the fallen city's overlord.

"We need to look into this further, Lady Druella."

"You do that. In the meantime, tend to the injured and restore the area. I wouldn't want to give that prick the satisfaction of leaving lasting damage." Druella twirled a lock of her hair with her index finger. This was becoming highly annoying.

* * *

"What the hell happened to you? You look like you've taken a trip to hell and back."

Frederic was surprised and relieved to see the knight-mage before him, but his state and the look of his face set his instincts on alert. The man before his desk looked different, not only in sight, but also in something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He motioned at the chair in front of him.

"Have a sit. And a drink too. You look rattled." He pulled two glasses and an old bottle from a drawer. He had this hunch he would also need it.

Alatar sat on the chair and downed the glass before him in one go. The amber liquid calmed his nerves enough to relax, for the first time in months. "Where should I start?"

"Well, I've read your reports, but still, start at the beginning. Anything, however insignificant to send in a report, can be useful. We also have various reports of events around Lescatie. I must admit, you were busy, and effective as well."

Taking a deep breath, Alatar began recounting the events following his assignment. His commander listened on, sometimes asking for details, taking notes. By the time he finished his full recollection, the moon was high in the night sky.

"I must admit… I don't know what should I do first. Congratulate you for your operations, bash you over the head for your stupidity, laugh at you to no end for this embarrassment, burn you on a pyre for sex with a monster… anything I missed?"

"I think that's all."

"Oh yea, and ripping your guts out for being all high and mighty. What the hell? Going inside a monster village is hardly the way to stay low, after the werewolf stunt. Although it is so remarkably idiotic it can be overlooked." His commander eyed him with suspicion and annoyance. "And out of all the houses, you just HAD to enter the only one you should have avoided at all costs. Why didn't you just enter a house at random, neutralize the residents and be done with it?"

"The village was small enough for the change to be noticed. I figured that my best bet was an abandoned house inside an inhabited area. I just got unlucky."

"Unlucky doesn't even begin to describe it. Although you were lucky enough to slip through unidentified. Even with a horny succubus clinging to you. And stealing demon gems while you were at it." The commander laughed. "Seriously, I should have seen that. That is some kinky shit." His face went serious. "Still, the amount of demon mana is nothing to sneeze at. And the fact that you fucked a virgin succubus that waited for you for two years, for two days straight… this should have turned a dozen men into incubi on the spot. Were those gems that effective?"

Alatar pulled the five gems, bristling with power, and placed them on the commander's desk. "I see. Well, not exactly, but the glow is brighter than anything I've seen on a devil gem so far. Maybe Pallanto will be able to make use of them. You should see him, let him check you for any traces of demon mana. It would be really bad if you escaped all this to fall in the end. One more thing..."

The commander looked him straight in the eyes.

"How did you manage to escape? I have a report claiming that Wilmaria and Mimil went to the forest before the fire began. And that succubus, after all that fucking, should have been all charged up. I know your skill, but still..."

"Multiple fires in the woods for diversion and a wind rider spell to run like hell." Alatar's tone was flat. Using demonic mana was something he omitted from his story. His commander kept his gaze a bit longer.

"Fine. Keep your little magic secrets. Fix your equipment, get Pallanto to check you, have a little break. Two months is a long time. Here." He threw him a pouch that jingled as Alatar caught it mid-air.

"Thanks."

"I'll call you for the next op. Stay in the city."

"So long."

* * *

His steps echoed in the stone pavement. The library stood before him, ominous in the eyes of the nearby children. Mainly because of the guards at the entrance, and the grim-faced mages that frequented it. Alatar picked up his pace. Pallanto was waiting.

The guards at the entrance didn't give him a second look. His red cape signified him as a mage. Entering the library, he took a deep breath. The smell of old parchment and ink, the muffled steps over the thick carpet, the sound of scrolls opening… it seemed like a lifetime since he had been in here, fetching the scrolls for the headmaster of the Academy of Lescatie. He wondered how that old coot was faring. Did he even survive the invasion?

Getting to the restricted section was way more difficult. Any mage could enter the lower levels, but special clearance was needed to access the more dangerous sections of the library. After passing the magical detector, he headed for the room where Pallanto said he'd be waiting.

"Was meeting here really necessary?" He said in annoyance, closing the door behind him. The other mage was sitting on a luxurious chair, with a few books stacked on the small table beside it.

"Nice to meet you too." Pallanto responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This is the restricted area, as you may have noticed, and, shockingly, not everyone can enter."

"Why not your place?"

"Well, a few reasons. First and foremost, I don't have my own little private room as our dear commander. Second, those books you want are something that the head librarian wouldn't allow to exit the library."

"And the third reason?"

"Besides irritating you?" He smiled at the scowl on Alatar's face. "I want you to meet some people. This is the unofficial headquarters of the mages' branch of the Order of Shadows."

"Hmm, I forgot to bring my good robe." Alatar spat. Pallanto had this way of getting under his skin. And his laugh now proved all the more irritating.

"No need for fanfare and uniform. We are mages, not knights. We won't scold you if you have ink stains on your robe."

"Fine, I get it. What will I be interrogated about?"

"Why, of course, your little misadventures with the lady." Pallanto's suggestive grin made Alatar grit his teeth. "If you got me here so that you can all laugh, then-"

"Hold your horses there, Mr. Suave", Pallanto said, half amused, half reassuring. "You know what I mean, so stop pouting and put your ass down."

Still fuming, Alatar sat on the other chair. "Aren't there any more chairs here? Or will you have them standing?"

"The meeting won't be long. After all, it would draw suspicion if a bunch of mages all holed up in a single room. Not to mention a bunch of nasty rumors."

"Yea… I'd best not think about it."

"Exactly. What we are most interested, is the way of dealing with demonic mana. It is, after all, a very useful idea."

A knock on the door interrupted Alatar from giving a retort. From the look on Pallanto's face, he could guess that the commander had told him everything. Even the scene at the marketplace. _I knew I would never live this down. Maybe marrying that succubus would be a better idea._

Each mage that entered nodded at Pallanto, then gave a curious look at Alatar. His muscular build, gained from his frenzied training at Frederic's boot camp, was certainly uncommon among mages. Pallanto rose from his seat.

"Gentlemen, let me present you Alatar Moriatan."

Alatar could feel the tension and interest rising.

"As you already know, Alatar may be the only one yet to… face…" it was clear that Pallanto still found that funny. The mages' frowns made him compose himself. "Ahem, face huge amounts of demonic energy head-on and come out unturned. He will now demonstrate the method he used." He turned at Alatar.

With a sigh, Alatar rose from his seat and began to explain.

[Several hours later…]

"Well, that went well" Pallanto mused.

"We were in there for hours. What happened to this being a short meeting?"

"Oh well, you know yourself. When we exchange ideas, we can get carried away. And fresh ideas are especially rare. Got your books?"

"That replication spell works way too well" Alatar grudgingly admitted. "If you can use it to mass produce books-"

"We've been over it, Alatar. We need better infrastructure and education, not to mention funding. Even empty books cost, you know. What good is a book to a peasant when he can't even read it?"

"Have it your way, I learned it anyway. Quite good for a shut-in mage to come up with something this practical."

"Is that a compliment? Why, thank you! What do you need those books anyway? Studying demonic mana is blasphemy for the Order, you know that."

"I have a… hunch? Theory? I don't know yet. Trapping it is one thing, using it against them is another."

"And might I inquire why you need the books for the monsters at the previous king's era? Studying history as well?"

"I search for something we might have overlooked" Alatar replied. "Something that wasn't changed by the current king, something we can use."

"You are hiding something, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. Until I am sure."

"Suit yourself, Alatar. How about some wine on the way home? Those meetings always make my throat dry."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 9 is out. Dive head first into the plot again. Criticism welcome


	11. Chapter 10: Corruption

"Ahn give it to me! Harder!"

Veronica was bouncing atop him, her face flushed. Her body was the stuff of fantasies, her breasts bouncing along with her.

"Honey? We're home!" A familiar voice called, accompanied by footsteps on wooden floorboard. Alatar looked around. This was his parent's bedroom. He turned to the door, knowing too well what would happen.

The door opened, and his father and his younger self appeared. His father had a look of absolute horror and pain; his younger self, shock.

"H-honey?" his father stammered. "W-what is… who..."

He saw his father pull his dagger. He tried to shout, to catch his hand, anything, but instead he gripped Veronica's hips and slammed his manhood harder, causing her convulsions of ecstasy.

"AAAAAHHHNNNNNN YES YES YES I'M CUMMMMMINGGGGG! "

He saw crimson liquid spurt from his father's chest, he saw his younger self catching his father's body, his young hands stained with blood. He looked at his own hands, and there was blood on them too. He heard the scream of his younger self, the look of disgust and rage on his young face.

"FIRE, COME FORTH, BURN, BLAZE, DESTROY, OBEY!"

A torrent of fire burst forth setting everything ablaze. Veronica leaned on him, her flushed face adorned with beads of sweat, shining like diamonds at the fire's light. She licked his face. "Well, honey, don't you love me?"

Alatar woke up with a scream.

* * *

"Pass me the ball!"

"Run! He has it!"

"That's cheating!"

Children's voices echoed in the small courtyard of the orphanage. Amid them, the sight of a knight in full armor seemed so out of place, that many stopped their games and looked at him in awe. The knight smiled and proceeded to the old woman overseeing the children. "Greetings, Sister."

"Greetings, my child. What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for Father-"

Recognition struck the old woman's face. "Please wait at the chapel. He will be there in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

The knight entered a small chapel at the back of the orphanage. The place was well-kept, clean and tidy. The knight tossed some gold coins on the offerings plate, then proceeded to kneel in front of the altar. He put his sword in front of him, placed on it both his hands, and prayed.

"This is highly unusual, seeing you here."

Father Fullmoon entered the chapel and walked to the knight, who was still kneeling.

"So, what troubles you, child?"

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Gravely."

"I know, Alatar. Come, let us sit."

Alatar sheathed his sword, and sat by the old priest.

"What troubles you?"

"I've had sex with a succubus."

"Willingly?"

"No. I mean… not at first. But then… I am afraid, the demon's miasma has taken seed in me, Father. My sleep is troubled, my thoughts turn to her. I don't know what to do. I've tried magic, I've tried training to exhaustion, I've even tried medicine and alchohol."

"The last one was unwise, Alatar. You don't douse a fire with oil."

"Yes, Father."

"Tell me, how is your sleep troubled?"

"I see again and again, my father committing suicide, my younger self setting everything ablaze… but I am on the bed, my father's bed, copulating with that... succubus."

"Come here."

Alatar knelt before the priest, who put his hands on his head. "Do you believe and adhere to the tenets of the Chief God?"

"Yes, Father."

"Do you respect the Holy Order of Her world?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then remember them when your mind is in doubt. No matter what temptations the Fallen one and her minions plant in your head, keep your eyes on the light. Remember, what happens when you lose sight of your road." The priest's voice wavered ever so slightly. "You, of all people, should know that."

"Yes, Father."

The old priest whispered a long prayer, and his hands started glowing a faint blue light. The blessing prayer was something that few priests could call forth; it required strong faith and calm heart. However, Alatar winced in pain; the usual calming holy mana caused a bad disturbance in his body. Something was amiss.

"What is it?" The priest sounded worried.

"It's nothing." Alatar answered quickly. There was no reason to trouble the old man too.

The priest's hand gripped his shoulder. "It is bad to lie, Alatar, especially in a temple."

He sighed. _So much for not troubling. _The dull pain came from his torso, so he pulled up his chainmail. Three dark spots stood out; one under his stomach, and two over his left and right breast. He smiled bitterly.

"It seems I live on borrowed time, Father."

"…"

"That succubus seems to have sown the very seed of corruption in me. I have tried to keep it from taking root, but it is a matter of time before it sprouts."

Alatar pulled his chainmail down. "Please don't tell anyone about it. Unless I lose control. Then, kill me. Fast."

"Why are you going through all this alone?"

"This is my burden. I will carry it."

* * *

Alatar closed the door in his small room and activated the seals. His desk was filled with treatises on monsters, past and present, autopsies done by mages and doctors, descriptions of spells and seals. His last finding, was a book of the Order's inner workings, proclaimed heretical and destroyed almost to the last copy. It was the work of a disgruntled priest, who wanted to take revenge for being sidelined in the cutthroat political game among the Order's members. The priest was executed and his name forgotten, but the part talking about the Order's punishments has a curious passage.

"Seal of… pleasure? What a vulgar name."

There were no more references on that; the priest either didn't know or wouldn't disclose such a secret. Yet it piqued his interest. _Seal of pleasure… surely, as a punishment, it's not meant to give pleasure? Is it an ironic name for displeasure? Or is it to seal pleasure away? _The last thought caused a jolt in his mind, bringing forth passages from treatises on the nature of monster mana. A plan started forming in his head, and he pulled out a parchment and a quill.

* * *

"Are those reports reliable?"

"Yes, commander. The scouts confirmed it twice. And by the numbers, I don't think they could be mistaken."

"Damn! We're not ready. Not by a long shot."

Comander Frederic frowned, looking at several scrolls before him. There were several members of the Order of Shadows around the table, Alatar and Pallanto among them.

"Two divisions of the Demon King's army, mostly dullahan and salamanders, along with ten dragons, began moving to Lescatie. There are also other reports for odd army unit movements, but nothing conclusive yet." one member said.

Frederic's face hardened. "They are preparing to attack."

Murmurs broke out along the table. Pallanto spoke up. "Should we let the top brass know? We may be forced to full military mobilization."

"It won't be enough." Frederic answered. "There isn't enough time, or resources, or able men. Druella must have known this; she plans to hit all across the border."

"The main force is gathering at Lescatie." Pallanto pointed at a specific report. "Should we try to focus everyone there?"

"If we focus everyone on Lescatie, we would just delay her. We don't have the manpower to attack the city. And the rest of the border will be virtually defenseless. The regular troops don't stand a chance against those fanatics."

"May I propose something?" All eyes turned to Alatar. "We can try to intercept most of the troops along the border. Attrition war. This will slow them down, or even discourage them altogether. Then, after dealing with them, we encircle Lescatie and start the biggest harassment campaign of all. That will give time to the Order's forces to mobilize, and less monsters to fight."

"Alatar, we can't leave Lescatie alone! The main bulk of Druella's supporters are there. If they move, they'll have the capital within a week. If the capital is lost, all is lost." Frederic said.

"I will stall for time. Their large number means that they need more provisions. If I hit the supply chain, and harass the troops, that will give you a couple weeks' worth of time. Can the others manage to finish and encircle Lescatie until then?"

"Barely. Still, it is a risky plan. You are just one man, Alatar-"

"We don't have much choice, commander. With all due respect."

Frederic eyed the young man. "This is a suicide mission, soldier. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir."

"We are already putting our necks out with this. This is not something the top brass even knows. Mobilizing our men into enemy territory will probably put us in the light, and then we will have to answer questions."

"Again, with all due respect, sir. Fuck the top brass." Nervous laughs broke along the table. Alatar smiled. "OK, not will full respect. Still, we can't hold every position at once, we can merely stall for time. Everyone has much more to worry than court martial. Even the top brass has to see that."

The knight commander sighed. "How do you expect me to believe you can hold out against the main force? Even a lunatic like you can see that we are sending our forces to their doom. But Lescatie? And you, alone? There is a clear line between bravery and stupidity."

"Sir, given the time we have, any other course of action will result in loss of territory. You know we can't give even an inch. Even if we focus more forces at Lescatie, one breach in the line will have the nearby forces surrounded. We must hold the entire line for two to three weeks, at least. That will give the Order enough time to move. Assuming they don't get caught up in their-"

"They won't. I'll see to it. No matter what these greedy bastards will argue about. The Order of Holy Light will be ready, at least. It is our best bet against the main force, anyway." The commander sighed again. "Fine. I'll regret this, but we'll move as this. I'll draw the battle plans and the orders. Pallanto, see to it that they reach their destination as soon as magically possible."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Alatar?"

"Sir?"

"Make sure you don't fail. Because if you do… I don't know if an incubus retains his memories, but I'll make sure to remember to find you or your carcass and fuck it in the ass."

"Understood, sir."

The participants rose, and turned to leave.

"Alatar, Pallanto, a word" the commander called.

* * *

P.S. Chapter 10 is out. Hold onto something, this is going to be a bumpy ride. Criticism welcome.


	12. Chapter 11: Blasphemy

"What was going through your head? Don't you see that this is a fool's errand?"

Alatar and Pallanto were standing inside the commander's office, with the commander shouting and pacing back and forth.

"Sir, I-"

"Can it with the formalities! This is fucking crazy!"

"We can't hold out otherwise." Alatar answered.

"I know it, damn it! I know! Yet the whole part of your plan fails if you fail! This is downright impossible!"

"That is why it's going to work."

"Don't spout nonsense! Those two divisions are not coming with just their cunts and skimpy clothing! They are fully armored heavy troops! And these are the ones we know about!" The commander took a few deep breaths. "What is your plan, Alatar? I know it is something equally crazy, otherwise you wouldn't have proposed this plan at all."

"Yes, it is." Alatar's tone made both the other men freeze.

"I intend to do something just as outrageous. And this will piss off the Order. Very much."

"More than I am now? Well, aren't I for a treat. What is it?"

"I intend to become an incubus."

"WHAAAAT?!"

"Gee, commander, no need to scream, I am next to you."

Frederic grabbed Alatar by the collar of his shirt. "Do you think this is a good time for jokes, boy?"

Alatar shot a frigid gaze to his commander. "Do you think I am joking, Frederic?"

"What good will it do if you turn to a sex crazed monster? Humor me, if you will."

"Not entirely sex crazed."

"Clarify. Now. And in plan language."

Alatar took a deep breath. "The demonic mana takes root in men by feeding from their primal desires. You know, the seven sins."

"Yes, I know. Lust, envy, greed, sloth, pride, gluttony and wrath. What of it?"

"During the previous demon king's reign, the monsters fused their mana with wrath. That was the disposition of their king. With the current demon king, they fuse their mana with lust. However, what if there was nothing that the demonic mana could take root on?"

"You can't mean you will try to suppress all cardinal sins in you? Even gods haven't been able to do that."

"I won't suppress them. I will seal them."

"What do you mean, seal them? You can't seal something that is in your very nature!"

"Actually, it is not exactly a seal. More like a curse."

"I find it even more difficult to understand, or like it."

That is why I will need a priest, Pallanto and you. It must be done by tomorrow night."

"Even if this supposed thing will work, which I doubt, what then? Even an incubus isn't enough to stall Druella."

Alatar sighed. "Fine, no more secrets." He removed his shirt. The three marks of corruption stood against his skin. He told them the true story of his escape.

"So, I already have little time to begin with." he continued, putting on his shirt. "That means I will not try to harass. I will try to destroy. As much as I can. I'll try to make a showcase of what will happen if they decide to invade. I'll show them that the cost will be much greater than the gain. Hit them straight in the morale and fear. Shock and awe, as you would put it, commander." Alatar smiled, but his smiled flickered quickly.

"Assuming the transformation is successful. That is why I'll need your help too, Frederic."

"My help? I won't like this, will I?"

"What I will do, is place upon me the three Nemesis seals."

Shock and horror came over Frederic's face. Pallanto looked puzzled; the commander was showing something none had even seen, ever since he was knighted.

"NO! Just… no! Have you lost it?!" the commander started stammering. "Where did you even learn about that?"

"Alatar, what are the three Nemesis seals? I pride myself on my knowledge, but I haven't even heard of them, even though I am the head of the mage's branch of the order."

Alatar shot a questioning look at his commander. Frederic sighed. "Tell him" he relented. "He was bound to find out sooner or later."

"The three Nemesis seals are a punishment of the Order that was declared forbidden and heretical a century ago. It was meant for high treason of the order's members. Specifically, if one high ranking member actively helped expand the demon realm. There have been a few instances where it was administered. I found only one in the archives, and mentions of the others on it. The person was a head priest of a mid-sized town, who smuggled and distributed demon realm products among the population, like prisoner fruits and the like, added alraune nectar to honey jars and dumped undine spring water to the well. He was caught and put on trial. His name was stricken from all records; all who receive that punishment are referred as the Forgotten ones."

"And the seals?"

"There are three seals placed on the punished person's body. The first is the Seal of Emotions; it draws all emotions from a brain, and the person becomes like an automaton, unfeeling and uncaring. The second seal is the Seal of Desire. It seals all seven cardinal sins-"

"That actually sounds useful" Pallanto interrupted.

"The seals work in unison. One cannot exist without the others. Not only that, but when I say that it seals them, I mean completely seal them. When gluttony is sealed away, even the slightest feeling of hunger is sealed. Imagine that. While it might sound nice, the third seal is the one that turns it all to a nightmare, if one could feel it. The Seal of Pleasure. As it is named, it seals all feelings of pleasure and comfort. What the person is left with, is his intellect, and his pain. Nothing else. It is a torture for life, without even the despair or courage needed to end it."

"And you intend to put that on yourself? Nevermind the fact that it can drive you insane?" Pallanto sounded really worried.

"Drive me insane for what? Even the memories of those emotions are taken. Will I go insane because of despair I can't feel? On anger I can't feel? Remember, this is a set."

"Do you even know how to cast those things? If it is forbidden, I doubt I will find anything in the library. There is a good possibility that even the Order's Grand Library won't have any clues, and they won't let us inside their forbidden section anyway."

"I suspect, to protect this knowledge, there won't be anything left in writing. The secret of the seals is probably passed from the top priests to their successors. And I know someone who was a successor..."

"Fullmoon won't cooperate" Frederic said in a harsh tone. "You do realize what you will be asking of him? To mutilate you, without crime? That is a sin worse than murder."

"I have to try. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides… I intend to add a bit twist on the seals."

"What do you mean?" Pallanto sounded interested.

"I need to keep the corruption seeds at bay. Only holy energy can do that. What I intend to do is to trap them inside the seals, along with a big amount of holy energy. Even if they catch me and undo the seals..." Alatar's voice trailed off, and smiled. A really nasty smile.

"...the holy energy will react with the demonic one, and kill everyone around. Including you." Pallanto continued.

"Exactly."

"You really have lost it. Maybe that succubus fucked your brains out? A suicide mission, with a suicidal lunatic, on suicidal seals, blowing himself on fail?" Pallanto tried to joke, but his laugh was bitter.

"If I succeed, we win. If I fail, the explosion is bound to cause tremendous damage. So we win again. This place is bursting with demonic energy, so the reaction will be spectacular."

"One other thing, Alatar" Pallanto asked. "Sealing you, horrid as it may be, won't turn you into an incubus. Don't you need demonic energy for that? The procedure is quite slow if you don't have a monster to… help out."

Alatar flashed his nasty smile again. "It is a good thing I had that little misadventure then?" He put his hand in his expansion pouch, and pulled out something shining. The five devil gems, bristling with trapped demonic power, shone in the dim light.

* * *

Chapter 11 is out. I warned you, this is going to be a bumpy ride. Criticism welcome.


	13. Chapter 12: Heresy and sacrifice

"No."

Pallanto shifted uncomfortably. The three men were sitting in a small room, with the priest sitting across them around a small table. A candle flickered at the middle of the table, its dim light casting moving shadows around.

"You know I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't vital, Father." Alatar insisted.

"No. Plain and simple no. I know you are suffering, Alatar, but this… this goes against every ethic, every tenet, among all the gods, men and monsters. Only a sadistic madman would impose this. And only on others. Not even my daughter would be given that, and you know what she did." the priest was calm but unrelenting.

"I know what I ask of you, Father. I know that it is something unfathomable. But we are running out of options here. And this is something I have to do. Alone. This is done by my own free will."

"Damning yourself before God?" the priest's voice raised a bit. "Forfeiting your name, your body, your very soul? Listen here, child, there was a reason this… thing, was declared heretical. It strips of a human, all that is human, leaving only pain. There is no relief from this. Even our strictest tenets forbid undue suffering willingly imposed upon others. And to top it off… turning yourself into an incubus? Not even in the undead wars of old did we stoop so low!" the priest showed how upset he was, by sitting up and pacing back and forth in front of them.

"This is different, Father. The very capital is within striking distance from the lilim's forces. You know what happened at Lescatie. What will happen here."

The priest stopped his pacing, and turned to Alatar, his face a mask of controlled anger. "Don't you try to lecture me on that! I know the situation. But the end doesn't justify the means-"

"Those means are willing to take the risk, Father" Alatar's cold voice cut him off. "I am not doing this for myself. I am not doing this for revenge, or despair. I am doing this for the people here. I am doing this on a calculated plan."

The priest glared at Alatar's face, the same face that stopped his knife-wielding hand. Something broke inside him, and he collapsed on his chair. "Please" he whispered pleadingly, "don't make me do this… you are a blessed one."

Alatar's face softened. "It will be worth it, Father. I don't mind the oblivion. As long as you remember me."

* * *

"That is very advanced spellcraft, Alatar." Pallanto said, admiration creeping into his voice. "There are a handful of wizards that can pull this off. And even less subjects that are going to survive it. And only one willing."

"Is that a compliment? Why, thank you!" Alatar shot back. "Keep the book a secret. Gods forbid, you may even need it again. Are you sure you understand the modifications needed for the seal?"

"Yes. Where is that priest anyway? It's almost midnight."

"Fullmoon will come." Frederic answered with a grim voice. "Here are your things, Alatar. I must admit, such equipment will be a huge advantage to the Order-"

"Thanks, commander. The blueprints and instructions for them are in that book I gave you. For now, be sure you do what you must, if things turn ugly. And don't forget, to speed things along with the mobilization."

The commander grunted. He took out his sword, enchanted with runes of holy power, and checked its condition. "Let's hope it doesn't come down to this. This is already insane as it can be."

"Even God thinks so." The three men turned to the source of the voice. The old priest walked towards them, with grim face but determined steps. They had chosen a small clearing, somewhat far from the city walls. "My apologies for the delay, but I had to do some preparations for the ritual. I hope you stocked enough mana potions, Pallanto. The ritual is short, but exhausting, to say the least. There were more people involved, according to history."

"Well, this is hardly an option now. Let's hope that the city guards don't react that fast." Alatar smiled.

The priest and the mage drew an arcane circle with holy symbols, while Alatar removed his clothes, leaving only his pants on. The priest turned to him. "Are you sure about this?"

Alatar's bitter smile looked like a grimace in the moonlight. "Such a cliché question, Father. Of course I am sure. How about you?"

"Of course not. And I never will. But it is up to you, all things considered. Let's begin. Lie within the circle."

Alatar obeyed. The ground was cold and damp, with small stones digging into his skin.

"Extend your hands in the shape of a cross." the priest instructed. He knelt just out of the circle, Besides Alatar's head, and Pallanto knelt at the opposite side, a small bag filed to the brim with mana potions. Frederic stood a bit further, his sword at the ready. The priest raised his hands to the sky.

"Holy one, looking over us, extend your will upon this sinner. His deeds are atrocious, defying the holy order upon the world. His will is degenerate, blaspheming without hesitation or remorse. His soul is loathsome, revelling in sorrow, despair and tears. Your humble servant pleads you, fill him with holy light, scorch the evil from his being!"

The priest's hands flashed white, and the ground shone with light. With a low rumble, the circle's symbols glowed blue, and a pillar of light shot to the night sky.

Alatar felt the calming effects of the holy energy flowing inside him, soon to be stung by the three corruption marks on his body, that stood out clearly.

The two men started chanting for the second phase of the ritual.

"You who betrayed the good and pure, you who gave in to envy and greed, you who stand before the eyes of the holy, from you do we take away your poisonous heart!" The priest's voice came right out of the old books. Palanto murmured the incantations, his face growing pale by the second. Searing pain shot at Alatar, as the seal began forming on his left breast, over his heart. He grit his teeth and his fingers dug into the ground.

Pallanto drank three potions after the first seal. That thing took a ridiculous amount of mana to set up. Feeling the energy rushing into him once again, he nodded at the priest.

"You who defiled the innocent and unspoiled, you who gave in to lust and corruption, you who stand before the eyes of the holy, from you do we take your wicked desire!"

A stronger pain came over Alatar, from his lower abdomen. The two seals started resonating, resulting in a sharp pain, like he was repeatedly stabbed over the two seals.

The priest's face had a sorrowful expression, watching the pain carve Alatar's face in the light of the pillar of holy energy, but pushed on. "You who took refuge in the wicked and immoral, you who reveled in debauchery and self-indulgence, you who stand before the eyes of the holy, from you do we take your evil pleasure!"

"Grraaaaaahahhhhaaahahhhh!" The pained cry tore through Alatar's throat and gritted teeth.

His body hovered above ground. The pillar of holy light was sucked into the seals, making them glow red. The sickening smell of burning flesh filled the area. At long last, the light was gone, and Alatar's body slammed to the ground. Pallanto tried to stand, but his legs betrayed him; he cursed and drank the last potions to restore his energy. The priest stumbled to the fallen figure, along with the knight-commander, his sword at the ready.

"Alatar?" The priest asked, wiping the sweat from his face.

Alatar's eyelids flickered oped. He stood up with a groan. "That was… painful."

His empty tone froze the priest's blood. He has hoped, against all odds, that the ritual wouldn't work, that God wouldn't approve and give her power.

"We have to go." The commander's voice broke the silence. "The city guard will be here any minute. Along with the Order."

"You can go. I'll stay."

Alatar turned his empty eyes to the priest. "That is illogical, Father."

"Is it? Someone has to be here to take the blame. They will find out about the ritual from the magical residue. There aren't many who can do it. You three continue on. I won't be of much help anyway."

"You realize they will put you on trial for heresy." the knight-commander told in a matter-of-fact way.

"Yes. But if I claim to be punishing… Alatar, for trying to corrupt the city from within, I think I'll avoid death." He turned to the mages. "That's the second time I am willing to defy God's teachings."

"But it is effective, nonetheless." came a cold reply. "A knight trying to corrupt the city from within will blow away any doubts about the reports for imminent invasion. And if the knight escaped, that would speed things along."

"Correct. Godspeed to all of you. And, commander? Please visit my cell to tell me how it turned up."

Distant shouts and barks of dogs alerted them of an approaching patrol. "Now, go!"

The three men took off to the forest, and the priest sat on the ground, exhausted.

* * *

"Will he be all right?" Pallanto asked.

"Fullmoon has still some allies within the Order. He also has a sharp wit and good knowledge of the Order's inner workings. I will present the reports tomorrow. Hopefully they will be preoccupied enough to leave it for later."

"Leave it for later? He is facing heresy charges."

"That is the best we can hope for, at the moment. I'd be more worried for myself, if I were you, Pallanto."

"What do you mean?"

"The investigation will find out the magical residue of the spells. You will be charged as an accomplice."

"You can hide in the meantime" Alatar interrupted. "And tell that you and the priest faced me, and I fled. You gave chase, but my transformation was complete. You can sport a few cuts and bruises to be more convincing."

"Damn it, this is more than I signed up for!" Pallanto exclaimed in anger. "This is only for you, Alatar. Don't you forget that. Not all the wine and magical trinkets in the world will get you out of this."

"Fine. If I return, I will see to it." The cold tone of Alatar evaporated Pallanto's annoyance. "Here is a good place. If the transformation goes wrong and the commander can't stop me, you can bring the rocks down our heads."

The small cave was carved into the sold rock by nature. Alatar took the devil gems and proceeded inside.

"Are you sure the barrier will hold out?" Pallanto seemed very worried. The release of monster mana deep inside human territory was something he wouldn't ever consider, even for the most audacious experiment.

"Yes. The barrier that holds monster mana at bay, also holds it within. I will draw it in my body. Then… I will be turned. In theory."

"An awful lot to be tested in theory, Alatar." the commander growled. "I would prefer somewhere within monster realm."

"Me too." Alatar replied. "Be sure to send a team of priests to purify the place. It will make the story all the more convincing."

"Let's hope there are no miscalculations in your plan. Hey, are you all right?" Pallanto asked at the look of pain on Alatar's face.

"No. The seals are painful. But the Seal of Pleasure also negates any resistance a human has over small pains and the like. I can only assume that the pain in my stomach means I am hungry. Let's finish this." His emotionless voice betrayed no pain, and the reflexive winces of pain on his face were fading fast.

He took the five shining gems and proceeded into the cave. Pallanto cast the barrier, while Frederic readied his sword. All or nothing.

Intense flashes of purple light poured out of the cave, dying out soon after. The knight-commander tightened the grip on his sword. After a while, there was silence, and a lone figure came out of the cave and touched the barrier, which repelled him slightly. Frederic and Pallanto approached cautiously. A pair of emotionless violet eyes gazed back at them. "It is done."

* * *

Chapter 12 is out. Criticism welcome


	14. Chapter 13: War

"Report for Lady Druella!"

"Leave it here."

Large numbers of Ratatoskr and harpies were coming and going inside the large room, bringing and sending messages. Veronica threw the scroll on the pile in annoyance. So much work, being the aide of Wilmaria. Especially when she decided to goof off and have intimate moments with her husband. Those reports had to be analyzed, then presented to the lilim. Then came the planning phase, where orders would be drafted and sent. All because her Highness was annoyed about that human-

She shook her head, making her long blonde hair fly around. This wasn't the time for this. She had the utmost respect and admiration for Druella and Wilmaria, but she felt so lonely. The time she spent with Alatar had been burned into her mind and body. It was unfair of him to dump her like this and flee. That jerk. She promised herself, for the umpteenth time, that when she found him, she would stuff him full of mana, alraune nectar and every other herb and aphrodisiac in existence, let him stew in his own desire while she teases him for a day, then fuck him till-

"Lady Veronica, this is for you."

The call of a young harpy broke her fantasy. She was surprised; who would want to send her a letter? Maybe it was some other airhead human. She was a single succubus after all.

The letter didn't contain the sender, but the shiver that ran from her hands and down the spine told her otherwise. This letter was stained with her demonic energy. There was only one person who was pumped full of it…

"The observation hill. At midnight."

* * *

It was a calm night, with clear sky adorned with countless stars. Veronica was growing more anxious by the minute; her tail whipped around displaying her troubled state of mind. She sprayed some perfume on her, its sweet smell only adding to her feelings of anticipation. At last, she would meet with her beloved.

She opened the door of her house, where she met him. A bit of his scent lingered still; she quickly closed the door to keep it inside. Maybe, just maybe, the next time she passed the door, she'd be in his arms…

She flapped her wings open and took off. The night breeze made her hair flutter in the air, and caused a pleasant cooling feeling on her skin. The clock at the Fallen God's church had still thirty minutes to go before signaling midnight, but some couples were inside still, offering their sexual pleasure. Her smile widened, imagining getting married in that church. However, the abruptness and brevity of the letter she still held in her hand showed clearly that this wasn't going to be the case. She set her course to the hill and went full speed.

The top of the tree remained scorched, after Alatar's trap blew up four werewolves a few weeks ago. The dryads couldn't find the time to fix it, still working on restoring the damages that the raging inferno caused to the forest. Veronica landed softly by the side of the tree. She was early, but couldn't help herself; the object of her affections was close. The minutes passed slowly; she started counting the stars in the sky to pass the time, until…

"You are early."

She jumped with a squeal. His voice sounded just behind her, but she heard no sound, felt no mana, no indication. She turned to see him.

A cloaked figure stood behind her, his face covered with a mask. She couldn't see his face, but his voice was unmistakably his… but it was hollow. As if he was reciting what he was reading from a particularly boring text.

"I couldn't help myself, honey, I haven't seen you in weeks!"

"This is not a social call, succubus. Tell your friends to come out of the trees, their heartbeat is deafening."

"What are you-"

With a fluid movement, the cloaked figure shot a rock among the trees, earning a pained grunt as a reply.

"Let's stop the games, shall we? I told you, this is not a social call. If this is what you call an ambush, you are clearly amateurs."

Wilmaria and four succubi, one sporting a bruise at her abdomen, came out of the trees. Wilmaria's scowl was accentuated by the dark blade she held. The injured succubus glared daggers at him.

"This is a message for Druella: Pull back your troops. You'll get much more than you bargained for."

Silence fell at his words. "Is that all?" Wilmaria scowled.

"Yes."

"You expect me, to go back to Lady Druella, tell her to just pull back, because you said so? Are you that retarded? Did Veronica fuck your brains out that bad?"

"Not just my words."

"Then wha-"

The sound of explosions interrupted her, breaking the silence and the calm of the city, filling the darkness of the night with fiery blooms and screams of terror. Wilmaria and the succubi looked on in terror.

"What have you done?!"

"You can consider this an official declaration of war. From me, to her."

"Get him!"

The four succubi and Wilmaria dashed forward, with dark blades raised. The man didn't move; the squad surrounded him. Wilmaria felt, after such a long time, her battle instincts flare. The first succubus to attack was the bruised one; she charged at him with a yell. Alatar sidestepped just enough to avoid the arc of her blade, planting a solid uppercut up her chin while grabbing her tail with the other hand, swinging her to another succubus, crashing the two of them to the ground.

"No rushed moves!" she ordered abruptly. "This is a trained adversary." The remaining two succubi that were standing nodded and proceeded to attack at once. One struck high, with a vertical slash, the other hit low, with a horizontal arc. Alatar leaned back a little, avoiding the vertical slash by a hair's width; the horizontal slash passed right through the cloak, and the succubus realized in horror that he had just jumped lightly and bent his knees, while the cloak concealed his feet. Alatar's hand shot out of his cloak, grabbing the high-hitting succubus by the throat and hurled her on the other. Not missing a beat, he dashed for Wilmaria, who took a defensive stance.

Steel flashed in the starlight, colliding with dark blade with a loud clash. Wilmaria held her sword with both hands; the strength of Alatar seemed almost…

Looking at his face, her blood froze; two glowing purple eyes measured her with an empty, calculating gaze. Her shock caused a momentary lapse; it was more that enough. Alatar pushed his sword sideways; the tip of the serrated blade scratching Wilmaria's cheek. Twisting his body, he connected a solid roundhouse kick to her stomach, sending her tumbling a few feet back. She regained her balance and assumed a defensive stance, but Alatar had took off to the trees.

She turned to one of the succubi escorts. "Inform Primera!" The succubus took off, but the screeching of two arrows cut her flight short. Veronica rushed to catch her before she hit the ground. The arrows had hit her left leg and right wing. The wounds were bleeding profusely, a green gooey substance coming out with the crimson liquid.

"Damn! The coward uses poison arrows!" Wilmarria hissed. She concentrated some of her mana and shot it upwards, creating a small purple firecracker. Hopefully, Primera would see this too.

* * *

"Damage report"

"Two of the bridges are out. The church has sustained heavy damage. Four of the granaries are destroyed. Three wells have collapsed, as well as one of the main gates. Thankfully, there are no casualties yet, but we have many injured, some in critical condition." The dullahan kneeling in front of Druella read the report.

The lilim sighed. A pack of werewolves, with Primera leading them, had brought in Wilmaria and a group of succubi, one seriously injured. Wilmaria looked especially angry, but refused to leave the injured succubus until the medical team assured her she would be out of danger.

After a few hours, Wilmaria came in the room and knelt before the lilim. "Stand, Wilmaria, and tell me. You have the scariest look on your face, and it is not beautiful."

Wilmaria quickly recounted the events at the observation hill. Druella and the two baphomets by her side listened carefully. At one point, Mimil came close to Wilmaria and asked to see the scrape on her cheek. Her face darkened.

Druella listened to Wilmaria's report, her frown deepening with every disturbing detail. When Wilmaria stopped, she turned to Lucella.

"Summon a war council. Everyone must participate. Even Shasha, she can leave someone to take care of the temple mess. We meet in two hours time. The longer we delay taking action, the more damage we will suffer."

"Yes, Lady Druella"

* * *

Druella entered a room with a long table. Everyone rose as she entered.

"Is everyone here?"

"Yes, Lady Druella" Lucella answered.

"Good. It is important for everyone to know what we are up against." Druella sat at the head of the table.

"From what we've gathered, we are facing a single man. Make no mistake; this is not a liability for him. He employs guerrilla warfare, or rather terrorist attacks. He had struck here recently; the forest still bears the scars of the fire he started. He is determined, trained and patient. What he did today, was our fault too; we had fallen into a sense of security after Wilmaria and Mimil drove him off." she nodded at them.

"However, he came back. Tonight's attack is the result of that lax in our security. He was able to withstand monster mana before; now, he seems to have developed a way to use it. That attack will set us back a lot, two weeks to a month, at least." She rubbed her temples. "I declare the city under emergency. Use the reserves in food and water. All foodstuff merchants are to give their wares to the palace. Double the patrols, in and out of the city. Everyone must show their face, no hoods or masks allowed for now. Establish a curfew at dusk. Send an envoy to the Demon Lord; I will write the letter for her to carry. What is it, Shasha?"

"What about the children in the orphanage? It sustained damage with the explosion."

"Send them to the palace. It should be a safe enough place, for now."

"What about that scum? We have to flush him out, somehow!" Primera growled.

"That is something I will discuss with the military leaders afterwards. The rest of you, dismissed."

The rest of the participants left, leaving the lilim and six other monsters on the table. Wilmaria spoke up first. "This guy has done some really fucked-up shit."

"More than you know" replied Lucella.

"We need plans now, not some smarty-pants retorts!" Primera snapped.

"Cool your head a bit, Primera" Mimil interrupted. "This guy is no amateur. What he has done is almost textbook. He has hit infrastructure, but he was careful enough not to destroy all of it. He even left an exit route. He seeks to obstruct, not to oppose. He left two granaries; those are not enough to sustain the whole city, but they exist. If he destroyed it all, the population would have taken starvation as a fact. Same with the wells. He didn't destroy all the bridges, and he even busted a gate open, facing to the monster realm, conveniently. He avoided casualties, because that would galvanize the city populace. He hits at our morale and ability to wage war, but he is quite adept not to fall into pitfalls."

"Then what can we do?"

"We will trap him. He hits whenever and wherever he wants, so we have to offer him a target he can't resist" Druella's eyes glowed. "He said he declared war against me, didn't he? So I'll be the bait."

"I'd advise caution, my lady" an inari that stood silent until now spoke with a calm tone. "I saw the wounds this person inflicted. In spite of the methods he employed until now, he has the capacity to kill in wicked ways."

"What do you mean, Koyoi?" Mimil asked.

"He used poison, serrated blades and arrows, traps, explosives, stealth. Those are weapons of assassins. We may not be able to stop him unscathed."

"Don't worry, my dear. You can't call me defenseless, can you? Come now, I believe it's high time we paid a visit to our hubby. It's been a stressful day."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 13 is out. War, war has changed. Criticism welcome


	15. Chapter 14: Hunter and hunted

Veronica landed out of her house, after executing Druella's orders. Her heart was a mess, her thoughts jumbled. Every monster instinct told her this was wrong, this couldn't be. Alatar had turned into an incubus, but it was more like the incubi of old, vengeful destructive beings full of hate. How could this man, who was moaning and fucking her like there was no tomorrow in the forest, become something like this? Her mana was within him; she knew it. Why had he acted like nothing happened? What was going on?

She saw a young couple strolling by, returning to their home for curfew. The man was holding his holstaur wife by the waist, as she clung to him. Her jealousy flared. She turned around and took off to the skies.

"I'll find you." she whispered to her self. "I'll make you mine. All of you."

* * *

Druella landed on the clearing of the forest yet to be restored. The charred trees had already been cleared, but the smell of burnt wood still lingered, and the sudden opening stood out among the thick canopy of the forest. This was the place where the human had first utilized monster mana. She had come herself after the incident; she couldn't believe that Alatar had used that kind of mana for destructive purposes. This was absolute heresy under her mother's rule. This kind of power was meant to be used for happiness and love. However, when she had reached the site, she felt that this time was different; the putrid stench of hate and anger had saturated the area, with a few notes of despair and regret.

She pushed those thoughts aside; this wasn't the time for this. The trap was set, she'd have to wait until they caught the rogue incubus. Her tail wagged in impatience; she was not the patient type. One squad of werewolves and one of dullahan waited in ambush. It wouldn't be long now. It was just a matter of time-

An explosion broke the midday calm, shaking the surrounding trees gently. It came from the city. _He didn't take the bait! _Druella was furious. She turned to the trees.

"Get to the city! He's there somewhere! Search everyone!"

"Understood, Lady! Move out!"

Druella was fuming. The impudent upstart was mocking them! How could he enter the city on high alert? A chill ran through her spine. _He didn't._

"Hold your positions! It's a diver-" her order was cut from a chain of small magical explosions. They didn't seem the kind of powerful explosives he typically used, more like firecrackers. But the unmistakable smell of oil and alcohol revealed his intentions. A series of sparks burst through, and fire raced around her. Incendiary traps! He was trying to trap her and set the woods on fire!

"Damn fool, underestimating me!" with a flap of her wings, she rose over the burning forest. She concentrated her mana.

"Oh water, come forth, cover in-" the screech of an arrow interrupted her, hitting her left arm. Another followed closely behind, aiming for her torso. She broke her incantation and moved aside. Did he really think he could hit her when she wasn't distracted?

A third arrow flied slowly towards her. She noted its origin and moved to fly past it and right into its shooter…

...when she noticed the arrow had no arrowhead, but a small explosive attached. The explosion knocked her from the sky and right into the clearing, now crowned in flames.

She pulled the arrow from her arm. The process was slow and very painful; when she finally took it out with a cry, she saw why.

"Serrated arrowheads and poison..." Koyoi's words resounded in her head. It was straight out of a book about the demons of old; those weapons were designed to inflict pain, incapacitate the victim and kill slowly, both with poison and with the slow healing and the increased chance of infection of the wounds it inflicted. That means he either wanted to torture her, or weaken her before going for the kill.

"Wilmaria! Primera! Mimil! To me!"

The three leaders burst through the flames, and rushed to her. She would need cover.

"You two, cover Mimil as she is casting. Mimil, dowse the flames."

"What about you, Lady?"

"I'll heal myself. This scoundrel is tricky, but he underestimates me, when I am angry. And I am VERY angry."

Mimil concentrated. "Oh water, come forth, cover in comfort, heal, obey!" A large cloud of mana shot from Mimil's hands and covered the burning forest, before turning into heavy rain. The charred trees hissed; steam along with smoke covered the clearing.

"AAAAAAAGHH!" the pained cry of a werewolf shot through the white barrier.

"He is here! Search around! In groups of three! Go!" The squads' leaders started issuing orders. Wilmaria and Primera tightened their grips on their weapons. The sounds of battle were intense, but short, beginning and ending abruptly.

"He's taking the teams out one by one. Damn it!" Primera growled.

"Not for long!" Druella hissed. The wound in her hand was closed, and she had extracted all the poison. However, the wicked weapon still showed its malice; a dark scar blemished her perfect skin.

"Oh wind, come forth, rage in torrent, obey!"

A blast of wind came from the lilim's hands, spinning faster and faster, to the point of a small tornado. Her bodyguards covered their eyes. When it was finished, the smoke and steam had cleared. A lone figure stood at the edge of the clearing.

"No more hiding, incubus."

"It seems so." Alatar's cold voice resounded in the quiet clearing.

Druella's instincts tingled. This was her first time hearing his voice, yet everything about it was wrong. No cold determination, no seething hatred, no self-righteous indignation… just a hollow voice, like an automaton's. Something was seriously wrong about this man.

His serrated blade was drawn and stained with blood. The pained groans and whimpers around the clearing accompanied his every step he took towards them. Druella saw Primera growl in frustration, and letting an arrow fly. Alatar sidestepped quickly, letting the arrow fly by him.

"Hold it, Primera." Druella pushed her bodyguards aside, as she walked towards the approaching man.

"Lady..." Wilmaria's warning call was interrupted by the lilim's raised hand. "It's OK, dear."

The two stopped a few feet from each other. Druella carefully took note of every little detail of her adversary. His leather boots made no noise whatsoever, despite stepping on charred leaves. His black linen cloak, emitting a faint magic aura. The black mask on his face, also magical, covered all but his eyes… his violet eyes that kept her locked on, with an empty soulless look. It seemed so out of place, like a fully clothed Order high priest preaching abstinence amid a full-blown Fallen God orgy. His bow, which was made from a strange string and layers of wood and steel, was flung across his torso. A leather quiver also hang from his back, its deadly load protruding menacingly. Those arrows seemed to have been made with harpy feathers. And, of course, his sword, grabbed by a gloved hand. The blade was stained with the blood of the two squads. The pained cries of her soldiers still echoed in her ears. It seems there were less fatalities than the amount of blood indicated.

"Well, you wanted to find me. Here I am." Alatar spoke first.

"I can see that. I am impressed. Truly. And that is not a compliment I give lightly. You gave us no small amount of trouble these past months."

"Save your compliments for one of your whores. You got my message. Pull back your troops. Before I start taking lives." His insults had a strange feeling, profanity spoken with such an empty voice. Even Druella, who was most fond of her creations, or children as she liked to call them, found it hard to be angry at that retort.

"You act like you are not in a pinch, incubus. Even if you neutralized two squads, you have to face me and three of my lieutenants. I will make my final offer: surrender. I won't show mercy next time. If there is a next time."

"You truly are the Queen of idiots. I expected my work would make it clear, that I am dead serious."

Heavy silence fell after his statement. The two of them kept sizing up each other. Then, with absolute coordination, they lunged at each other, a black blade appearing in Druella's hand. The clash gave the signal for her escorts to dash to her aid.

"Mimil! Heal the injured!"

"Yes, Lady!"

Druella pushed her sword, crossed with Alatar's serrated blade, and inched her face closed. "You are going to be one of my sweetest conquests." she cooed, her eyes flaring red.

Alatar broke the sword cross with a side pull, rolling his body around Druella's, until their backs collided. He parried a careful slash of Wilmaria and dashed sideways, parrying a low blow of Druella aimed at his leg.

"Oh fire, circle within, scald unto white, obey!"

The blood on his sword started sizzling; the blade glowed a dull red. Dodging an arrow of Primera, he ducked under Wilmaria's middle sword slash, slashing at her feet. Wilmaria jumped to avoid the seething blade, but that left her with an opening, something Alatar couldn't miss. Spinning on the spot, he planted a roundhouse kick from his crouching position right at her abdomen. While his stance prevented him from delivering full power behind his blow, it was enough to drive the air from her lungs and launch her backwards.

"Ooff!"

Alatar dashed forward; Druella's blade was already coming on him, whistling in the wind. With a side step he placed himself so that Druella was between him and Primera. That would stop those annoying werewolf's arrows. He heard a low growl; Primera was likely to join in melee, as her bestial nature loved action over patience.

Focusing his mana, he started murmuring an incantation, activating his mask to not let his voice through; that was a handy trick, allowing him to quietly hurl spells.

"Oh wind, circle within, embrace my body, move me as you, rage, torrent, obey!"

The wind rider spell was a handy spell that concentrated a set amount of wind mana around ones feet, pushing him forward for each step, until the mana was depleted. This variation, however, moved his entire body, but the tradeoff was that it required to be constantly fed with mana. Alatar's proficiency at spells was high enough for the spell not to chip away at his concentration, but his mana reserves, even magnified by his transformation, were not infinite. The flaming blade spell was already dying out. He would have to inflict damage and flee quickly. Druella seemed like a decent fighter, even if she clearly disliked it. Wilmaria was rusty after two years of inactivity as a fighter, but Primera worried him the most, as her nature and way of life sharpened her traits and monster skills. _Speaking of the devil…_

His heightened reflexes pulled him out of harm's way from Primera's sweeping claws, right into crossing swords with Wilmaria. Druella took the opening and struck; Alatar deftly let his sword go, pushing the hilt. The blade spun around, as Wilmaria's sword continued its slash… right into Druella's sword. Alatar grabbed the hilt of his blade, now facing downwards, and slashed as fast as he could at Druella's head.

Her cry told him he had cut something, but not something vital. As the momentum of his slash spun him around, he felt Primera's claws on his shoulders before seeing her face. The werewolf had found the chance she needed, and lunged at him at full force. Her momentum took both of them tumbling down and away from the lilim.

_Think fast, hit hard… the solar plexus! God bless the commander._

Taking advantage of a momentary separation of their bodies due to bouncing as they rolled on the ground, Alatar delivered a strong knee strike right where the werewolf's solar plexus met her abdomen. This area was typically protected by elven armor, but Primera had forgone it for the werewolf attire… _Too bad, I guess._

The shock of the blow drove Primera's breath out of her, and her grip slackened a lot, allowing Alatar to push her aside. He tumbled a bit further before stopping and gaining his balance. Primera would be out for a while, but finishing her off wouldn't be possible. He felt his hair stand, and magic circling around the lilim.

Druella's face was a mask of rage, and the dark red scar on her cheek only exclaimed that. Darkness was gathering at her hands. It seemed that the lilim intended to take him out in one shot. Stabbing his blade to the ground, Alatar concentrated all the mana he could into a counter spell.

"Oh earth, come forth, join the darkness, fury of the demons, pierce, kill, obey!"

"Oh air, come forth, join the light, wrath of the gods, smite the evil, obey!"

Dark spears hit full-on white-blue lightning. Opposing elements struck, creating shockwaves of magic that rattled the charred trees. The standoff lasted a few long seconds, before the accumulated energy went off with a blast, raising a giant cloud of dust and ash. Druella tried to calm her erratic breath. She motioned at Wilmaria to cover her as she cast another wind spell…

...yet Alatar was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

P.S. Chapter 14 is out. Criticism welcome


	16. Chapter 15: The price of power

"Lady Druella! Are you all right?"

"Never mind me, tend to the wounded patrols. What is the situation in the city?"

"An explosion destroyed a large tavern. Thankfully, there were no patrons inside; the tavern was operating at night. The owner and his family lived above, but we found them gagged and bound nearby. Only a few bystanders were injured by the debris, none of it serious."

"That is… good." Druella felt tired. That clash with Alatar left her drained, both physically and mentally. Is the envoy ready to leave?"

"A few of the envoy's escorts were among the injured in the explosion, Lady. We can still send it as is-"

"No. I want full escort. That lunatic is relentless. Tend to them first. I want them to be able to leave as soon as possible."

"Yes, my Lady."

* * *

Alatar dragged his feet to his temporary hideout, in a small cave by a pond. The monster mana inside him lessened the continuous pain in his body, but the feeling of weakness remained. His mana, or rather Veronica's mana, was dangerously low. The confrontation with Druella had taken a large toll on his body, and he looked forward to some rest. His cloak was ripped; he would have to repair it as soon as possible.

He hadn't been able to replenish his mana, no matter what potions and spells he tried. His attempts to harness the mana around him only resulted in manipulating it, and in a slow manner at that. _Seems like the only way to get mana for an incubus is through sex… that is a miscalculation. I'll have to inform Pallanto._

Writing the report was even harder, as fatigue began crawling inside his mind. The owl eyed him intensely, as he strapped his encoded report on its leg. Along with the letter, he strapped his expansion pouch; his supplies were all gone after the continuous attacks. Hoping that the Order would provide him with what he needed was a far-fetched wish, but it was all he could do for the time being. With all their resources directed to the multiple operations across the border, as well as the mobilization of forces, anything he could squeeze out of them would be worth its weight in gold. _I'd better try to find ways to utilize the local resources. Assuming I can gather whatever is necessary._

He patted the bird's head, and let it fly. As his only link with the human world disappeared into the horizon, he lied down on the cave's floor and drifted off immediately.

* * *

He felt the flow of mana rushing through his skin before his mind registered that someone was touching his face. Snapping his eyes open, a familiar face of violet eyes and long blonde hair greeted him.

"Wha-mmmmmmmfffffff"

Veronica kissed him deeply. _I can replenish my mana now… then… then…_ sleep overtook him like a tidal wave.

"Sorry about that, beloved." She said apologetically to Alatar's sleeping form. "But I had to use the kiss of sleep to carry you over." She grabbed his body like a kid's, placing his head between her breasts. He seemed to have lost weight since their last intimate moment. "Come now… it will be all right." And with that, she took off to the castle.

[Later…]

"I am really impressed, Veronica. How on earth did you track him? Not even Primera and her pack could do it."

"Thank you, Lady Druella. It was luck, mostly. I saw an owl taking off from a cave. There are no such birds in this part of the forest. After I came close, I felt traces of my mana. There is only one man who has it..."

"Still, great accomplishment nonetheless. How did this guy leave such a trail? He was very careful with such details."

"His cloak was ripped in places, my Lady" came the answer from Mimil, who was studying Alatar's gear intently. "This allowed some mana to seep through. This is impressive stuff."

"Indeed, it looks like we severely underestimated his ingenuity." Lucella admitted. "He used his cloak to keep Veronica's mana within him. Incubi release their mana around, so they need to replenish it through sex. His cloak, not only blocks monster mana, but it keeps it within. And it also blocks smell, heat and sound. No wonder he could move freely."

"His mask has the same abilities. He can switch them on and off, which is even more impressive. And… sound muffling boots? Imagine our kunoichi equipped with this-"

"That's enough lip service. Have you made an antidote for his poison? We have people's lives hanging by a thread here."

"It has already been delivered, Lady Druella." Mimil answered sheepishly.

"Good. Now, let's go to interrogate this... man. Let's hope his attitude has changed somewhat. You two, come with me. We may need to use some magic to… persuade him."

* * *

Alatar was lying down on a magical circle. The monsters took no chances, however; steel shackles bound his hands and feet to the ground. He was naked, and his body began shivering lightly because of the cold.

A door opened, casting a ray of light inside. Light footsteps on stone floor echoed in the room. _Hooves? And… heels? Druella and baphomets. Two of them._

Druella snapped her fingers, and dozens of candles were lit at once, illuminating the area. She approached Alatar, her aides in tow.

"We meet again, incubus."

"So it would seem."

"Still like that? No matter. You'll change your tone soon enough." She went around and knelt by his head. Pushing mana to her hands, she accumulated a condensed sphere the size of an orange. "Now say aaaaaahhhhhh" she said mockingly, as she grabbed his jaw and forcefully opened his mouth, shoving it down his throat. Alatar's body convulsed in violent spasms; he grit his teeth and closed his fingers into fists. The demonic mana felt like hot lava, searing and painful, as it traveled through his body. Trying to manipulate it was impossible; the seal under him prevented it. After a long while, his body arced, and a cloud of mana was released around it. The baphomets looked confused.

"Well, that is... unexpected."

Alatar's hands and feet were throbbing with warm pain, as his bounds had dug in his skin during his violent thrashing. His breath was erratic, and his body sweaty. He turned his empty gaze to an irritated Druella.

"Lost your touch there, ugly?"

A flash of anger crossed the lilim's face, and she conjured another mass of mana. "I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you. My mother has decreed that we are not to kill or torture humans. However, you are not a human any more, so..." she brought the mass of mana near his heart…

...when the Seal of Emotions glowed red, sending Alatar into a spiral of pain and filling the room with the smell of burnt flesh.

The baphomets were onto him in a second, looking at the seal intently. Druella was taken aback; her hand had retreated on instinct. She knew this thing meant trouble. Her instincts were never wrong.

"Mimil, Lucella, enough with this. I'll get into his worthless brain. I'll need mana. Let's get to the bottom of this." Kneeling again in front of his head, she cupped it with both hands, while the baphomets stood behind her, grabbing her shoulders. Druella closed her eyes and concentrated.

Getting into someone's dreams and memories was a delicate procedure. The slightest misstep could cause irreparable damage, and right now, this mind kept precious secrets. She was quite up for the challenge; after all, that was how she turned most of her lieutenants. But this mind seemed like a maze. Getting around it would take time.

The quickest method to bend a mind was to start from his childhood; that was something she had learned and confirmed by experience, so she dug around to see what she could find. "Keep looking" she mentally ordered the two baphomets that were mana-linked to her.

Finally, the earlier memory popped right in front of her…

And she saw it. She saw young Alatar hugging his father, and entering his parent's bedroom. She saw the scene unfold, young Alatar casting a spell that even novice mages had trouble with. She saw him running into the night, his parents' house in flames behind him. Sleeping in a barn, trying to steal from a middle-aged mage. The mage's face seemed familiar…

"Stealing will do you no good, brat." the mage scowled, grabbing young Alatar's hand by the wrist. Turning it around, the mage looked at the scorch marks on the boy's palm. After quickly examining the scars, he turned to the visibly frightened kid. "What is your name, brat?"

"Alatar. Alatar Moriatan." the boy said with a defiant face, albeit stained by fear.

"Well then, Alatar, stealing is something only thieves and scoundrels do. Follow me. I'll show you how to become neither."

The rest of the memories passed in a flash. Studying, errands… she skipped along. Those things were of no interest. She could revisit and dwell on them later, if needed. She watched his encounter with Veronica. His flight to the capital. The meeting with the other mage and the priest. His blessing. Him, reporting to the commander of the Order of Holy Light-

A bright white seal interrupted her path. "What is this?"

"A memory seal, my Lady. It is linked with his spirit energy. Tampering with it can be dangerous." Mimil answered.

"Fine, let's go for now."

Back in the candlelit room, she opened her eyes. Alatar had fainted, as was typical of such procedures. She turned to her aides. "Fetch the former headmaster, out of his bed and his wife, if necessary. Bring Shasha too. And… Veronica. It seems his body can accept only her mana. We need to keep him alive for now."

"Yes, my Lady."

After the baphomets left, she stood up, visibly shaken. The scene of his childhood raced through her mind. "This is going to be a really tough one." She muttered.

* * *

P.S. Chapter 15 is out. Criticism welcome.


	17. Chapter 16: The proud and the fallen

Veronica made her way to her house on foot. She was exhausted after hours of continuous search, and her wings ached. She passed by the few remaining taverns, and glanced inside. She shook her head slightly; his taste was still on her lips and in her mouth. Even though a drink sounded really tempting.

Around the tavern, small groups of monsters were gossiping lively.

"...and they say he butchered two elite squads alone!"

"Oh, my! How scary!"

"Not only that, he fought and injured Lady Druella and her escorts!"

"What a beast of a madman!"

"They say he's like the old demons, and he lives on blood and raw flesh of humans and monsters! That he blew up the city all alone!"

_Well, the rumors aren't all that false._

Her musings were interrupted by the call of a harpy. "Good evening, Lady Veronica. Lady Druella requests your presence at the palace at once."

_Druella? It has to do something with Alatar._ "Thank you for the message. I'll fly there right away." She felt some of the fatigue gone at the thought.

* * *

"You summoned me, Lady Druella?"

"Ah, yes, Shasha. There is something I want your help with. A seal, to be precise. It isn't like anything I've ever seen. Not even the baphomets can help, so I guess it is not arcane in nature, but more like in the priesthood field."

"I'll try my best, Lady."

"Just try to focus… being around this man can be so irritating."

They entered the room where they kept Alatar. He raised his head slightly.

"Hello again, ugly. Did you bring me company?" Alatar paused momentarily, as his gaze fixed on Shasha's face. "And out of all the people, you had to bring me the Fallen God's whore? I thought you had better friends."

Druella put her hand on Shasha's shoulder. "Calm now, girl. I told you, he is a handful."

"You know, I don't get it. Why would your father try to commit suicide over you becoming the Fallen's bitch." Alatar kept taunting. _Inflict distress, emotional damage, anything and everything._ "Sometimes I wonder, if saving him was the right thing-" a purple tentacle shot from the ground and gagged him.

"That's enough out of you" Druella told coldly. Shasha looked visibly shaken. "Shasha."

"Yes, Lady."

"I'll make the seals appear; you tell me what you make out of them."

"Yes, Lady."

Druella conjured a sphere of mana and hovered it over Alatar's torso. He bit at the tentacle as his body tensed in pain; the smell of burnt flesh made Druella and Shasha wince.

"Well?"

Shasha knelt by Alatar's torso, her hand tracing the seals lightly, as they appeared. Her expression darkened, until suddenly her eyes widened in recognition. "T-this… this?!"

"What is it?" Druella asked impatiently. However, Shasha's reaction shocked even her.

A stream of tears started flowing from the red eyes of the fallen priestess. "How could you?" she screamed. She started slamming her fists feebly on his torso. "How could you let them do this to you! How could you… how..."

"That's enough!" Druella ordered in concern. She raised up the fallen priestess and helped her out of the room. The lilim led her to a comfortable couch, where they sat.

"What is this about? What do you know?"

Shasha was still shaking. Druella hugged her with a sigh. She knew she wasn't going to like one bit what Shasha was going to say.

"It's… it's the Nemesis Seals." Came a trembling reply. Druella's expression darkened. "Wasn't this something the Order proclaimed heretical a century ago?"

"Y-yes. But a vague knowledge of it is still inside some forbidden books of the Order. And the procedure is said to pass from head priest to head priest." Shasha raised her head, looking the lilim with tear-stained eyes. "This… this is one of the utmost sins for Her. She wants people to revel in pleasure, and that… THAT… " she shuddered. "I'll need to pray to her for guidance. I'll need Her help to purge this anathema."

Druella gave her a pat on the head. "You do that. But, for now, get some sleep. You look awful right now."

Looking at the fallen priestess walk away slowly, Druella rubbed her temples. "Just what the fuck is up with this guy?"

* * *

The door opened at Alatar's prison room again, and a middle-aged mage came in, along with Druella. Alatar raised his head again. "I swear, ugly, do you intend of ever letting me sleep? Who is it this time… oh, hello there headmaster. You look well."

"You, on the other hand, don't." The headmaster was highly annoyed when they took him from the embrace of his witch wife, but the summons of Druella were not to be ignored. And after being briefed on the matter, he was really upset.

"You turned out to be quite the scoundrel, Alatar."

"And you turned out to be quite the monster, so don't lecture me on ethics. I am past lectures here."

"It seems your arrogance hasn't dwindled one bit." he sighed. "I got out of bed and the embrace of my wife, just for you, you know. So, let's we get over this quickly, shall we?"

"Do let's."

"You know, your actions here are an act of war. An act that can cause many lives to be lost. You even have blood on your hands. Innocent blood-"

"The werewolves were not innocent blood, headmaster. Can it with the bluffs. I am not some first-year student anymore, you know."

"...fine. You have blood nonetheless. And attacking the city's non-military buildings, injuring _innocent_ bystanders, causing shortage of food, water and medicine, widespread terror… terrorist doesn't even begin to describe what you did."

"True."

This answer, cold and empty, surprised the mage. "I assume you have a reasonable excuse for this, or am I to conclude that you have gone completely insane?"

Alatar sighed. His mentor's violet eyes sparked with interest. "Fine. Remeber that report I gave you two months after my graduation? About declining birth rates and the demographic implications?"

"Yes."

"Did you reach the part where I wrote, in big scary letters, my conclusion?"

"...no."

"Let me summarize it then. Humans will die out. One way or another. Monsters don't bear human offspring. They either have to make do with born incubi, or human men. Even in the unlikely event that monsters find a way to bear incubi more often, then what does that leave humans? When the population of both humans and monsters explodes?"

"..."

"I'll tell you this, old man. And get it right into your sex-filled head. I don't fight out of religious zeal, or because someone told me to. I fight because I have to. I know I am targeting innocents. But what do you define as innocent? If a village grows beyond what it can sustain, and they all starve, who is to blame? None? Or all? When the infighting begins, and the first lives are lost, the killers take the blame, but not those who created the conditions."

Alatar's face hardened. "I will fight, tooth and nail, hand and foot, steel and spell. Not for me. I forsook my life for this. Do you think humans will stand and take it? We come to this world kicking and screaming. We won't go quietly. I understand why I must fight. Do you understand your position?"

"My position is by my wife!" the mage answered.

"And mine is against you, as monsters. Simple logical clash of interests, nothing personal. Glad we sorted this out. Now, if you could show yourself out… I'd escort you, but I am a bit tied up here."

The mage turned and left the room, joined by Druella who watched the scene unfold in silence.

"Well?"

"He won't listen. He has fixed his reasoning on his human side." The mage pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn that boy. To think he would go to such lengths… was he really the only one behind the whole mess in the city?"

"The actual perpetrator, yes. He may have Order backing and training, we haven't confirmed anything for certain."

The mage looked surprised. "Order training?"

"From what I gathered from his memories, he joined the Order of Holy Light."

The name of the fearsome chapter of the order caused admiration, surprise and grief in the man's face. "That boy… he really is set on his thinking." He looked at the lilim. "Lady Druella, this man was a scrawny little kid. He grew to be a scrawny little mage. To pull through that training, and still retain his skills as a wizard… that is not something I see every day. It takes supreme willpower, or something deeply personal. Or both."

He turned to the now closed door. "I will try to find a way to reach him. But I suspect, only something that will hit the very basis of his reasoning will get him to yield. And there is one thing that bothers me..."

"What is it?"

"What if he is not the only one? What if there are others like him? What kind of chaos will we be in for?"

"I don't know. And I dislike not to know. I think it's high time I went to visit mother."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 16 is out. Criticism welcome


	18. Chapter 17: Standstill

"Report for Lady Druella!"

"Report for Lady Druella!"

"Fine, FINE, just let all of it here!" Wilmaria snapped. The numbers of Ratatoskr and harpies coming and going through the communications room almost doubled after Alatar's capture. She tossed the scroll on the ever-increasing pile. "Where the hell is Veronica?"

"She's at the palace, under Lady Druella's orders~" a childish voice answered.

"I am in no mood for jokes now, Mimil." Wilmaria growled.

"Who said I was joking?" she pouted. "She is with you-know-who. I came to help~"

"Aren't you in a happy mood..." she said with a scowl. The mention of Alatar irritated her to no end.

"Well, of course! The bad guy is caught, the city is in peace, and I get to play with big brother again~"

"Fine, just let's get it over with."

Mimil chanted an incantation and countless tentacles sprouted, grabbing the reports from the surprised messengers and categorizing them into their respective places. Within a couple of hours they were done.

"That is a handy trick..." Wilmaria admitted grudgingly.

"Thanks! I won't do it for everyone, you know~ today is the day big brother wants to throw a dinner party for Lady Druella! She's leaving for her mother tomorrow~ everyone must be there~"

"Thanks, Mimil. I owe you one."

Mimil's eyes glinted dangerously.

"I know~ and I know the thing I want to get even~"

"W-what is it?" Wilmaria blushed, despite herself.

"You give your turn to me~"

"!" her blush deepened. She's been had. But a debt is a debt. "Fine."

She turned to the neat piles. "Don't we get too many military reports lately?"

Mimil shrugged. "That's for Lady Druella to plan and manage."

* * *

Alatar felt his head being lifted, and the cold stone from under his head was replaced by something soft and warm. There was no mistaking this influx of mana…

"Veronica." he said, opening his eyes.

The succubus smiled, her long blond hair tickling his face. "You are becoming something of a legend, you know? A villain to scare the children."

"That is logical. Expected, even. I suppose that is the part when you try to appeal to my emotional side? Don't bother."

Veronica caressed Alatar's face. "Why must it be that way? Why can't we just be happy? Why do you have to go to such lengths?" Tears started welling up in her violet eyes.

"It is the way of the world. The logical conclusion of illogical choices." came the monotone, emotionless reply. "By the way, when will my execution take place? I have been here for quite some time, but I have lost track of it."

"You have been here for three weeks. Lady Druella went to the Demon Lord for your case. She should be returning any time now."

_Three weeks. Along with the other two, that gave us five weeks time. Pallanto and Frederic should be able to get the Order to prepare and respond appropriately._

"As for the execution thing… I am not sure. Lady Primera is the one calling for this. Lady Mimil and Lady Shasha oppose it. The others haven't expressed an opinion."

"I assume it will be up to the lilim then?"

"Yes. There has never been such an incident before." She smiled and lightly pinched his nose. "Rest now, dear. You'll need it."

"I never understood it, you know. I doubt I would understand it even with my emotions back. How is it you still go after me? If I got free right now, I'd kill you, you know. Or I'd use you as a shield to get out."

She smiled. "You'll never understand the heart of a woman. Especially with logic."

"Now, that is textbook illogical."

* * *

Druella entered her room in the palace of Lescatie, after ordering the servants not to let anyone in. Her mother's words still resounded in her mind.

"_That is what you get for forcing things, girl. Whenever something becomes forced, even if it is pleasant, it will meet reaction. It seems the humans are going so desperate, they will even turn suicidal. What you did with Lescatie was reckless, and look what it has caused. Humans have made the perfect weapon to wreak havoc to all of the monster realm, even here, at our home. Such short-sightedness… We must make a truce with the human world. And you, you need to learn patience and humility. We must let the humans come to us, not us getting to them, isn't that right honey? I'll write the proposal. You will deliver it. No, this is not negotiable. It is imperative as a ruler to know when to stop. You have gone far enough."_

She opened the scroll containing the conditions of the truce. The conditions seemed fair, but they betrayed the stalemate that they were in. Her entire forces along the border were beset with all manner of debilitating disasters. Food was stolen, bridges blown up, weapons destroyed, carriages breaking down, sometimes patrols getting attacked and injured… the morale of her ranks was demolished, especially those stationed in this city. The legend of the incubus had been blown out of proportions, and even the hardened veterans spoke of him in fear, awe and… respect.

She sighed. Was this the burden of a ruler? That was something she would have to ask her mother sometime. She called for a servant.

"Summon Wilmaria here."

"Yes, my Lady."

Then, came the matter of the incubus. Truth be told, even her mother was at a loss at his description. The thought that the humans were willing to put a man through the heretical procedure filled her with anger and grief. But when she told her of the man's memories, she fell silent and told her the most curious thing:

"_I begin to believe that this is something that this man was willing to take."_

For a monster, the very thought of giving away your emotions, your pleasure, your lust, was completely unimaginable. But as her mother put it, when a human feels like something he holds dear is threatened, they are willing to sacrifice everything.

As to what should be done with him, she just shrugged and told her that this was her first decision as a true ruler.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in, Wilmaria."

"You summoned me, my Lady?"

"Yes. I want you to arrange a meeting. In a neutral area, maybe a monster friendly territory. With the knight-commander of the order of the Holy Light, a mage called Pallanto, and Shasha's father."

"Yes, my Lady."

"Tell them it is about Alatar Moriatan."

"… yes, my Lady."

* * *

The old priest was sweeping inside of the chapel, when the knight-commander came in.

"Greetings, Fullmoon."

"Greetings, Frederic."

The day after the sealing, the priest was put on trial for blasphemy. The commander had burst into the courtroom, in quite the dramatic fashion. The resulting upset kept the priest's head on his shoulders, and after Pallanto's grand reappearance, things were calming down. _Quite the actor, that mage._ He even presented the empty devil gems, Alatar's parting gift, and the cave where he transformed, still stained with demonic mana. A huge debate ensued; the final decision was that this was to be the last application of the Nemesis Seals ever. The priest that held the knowledge were to take it to their graves. Alatar Moriatan was declared to be the last Forgotten One, and both the priest and Pallanto were under surveillance for a few years. Commander Frederic was in charge of the surveillance, and of course, he took it upon him personally.

"Well, I have some further news regarding our mutual friend."

The priest's hands clutched the broom "Really?"

"Yes, but not here. Let's go for a little stroll to my office. Our other mutual friend is waiting there. I just hope he hasn't drunk all the brandy already."

* * *

"Greetings, commander"

"I see the brandy is safe. Yet."

"Even I know when to lay off, commander. And this is one of those times. What is so important? And what of Alatar?"

"I got this letter, from an old acquaintance. Needless to say, the hands this letter went through must be many, but the origin is clear."

The royal seal of Lescatie adorned the parchment, and as the commander broke it, demonic energy seeped from it, clear as day. Pallanto quickly cast a barrier spell to keep it inside.

"Thanks. Now, let's see… meeting at the end of the month… neutral territory… the three of us… about Alatar… terrorist? I guess that's what he is called there now, but at least he seems to be alive for now… Lady Druella!? The damn lilim will be there?! What else… peace negotiations?! Are they serious?!"

"If they were trying to sound like a cliché trap setup, they did an excellent job. But I suppose they do have a bargaining chip. Do they say anything else?" Pallanto peeked at the message.

"Yes… as a proof of goodwill… heh, goodwill, sure… they will send Alatar's gear via the same channel they sent the letter, and they will let us choose the exact location and time. Hmm, well, that's unexpected. But this is a lilim we are talking about here. Any ideas?"

"How are we to convey the exact place and time?" the priest asked.

"Obviously, they will be tailing us." the commander groaned. "This is fishy. How did she even know of us? Alatar would not have given such information willingly."

"I'll procure some shielded cloaks and masks. A clear plain near an inspected forest, with a protection seal?" Pallanto proposed.

"I'll make sure some chapter members are there. No need to get the Order too involved; shadow members will do just fine. If anything, those monsters know what the Order of Shadows is capable of."

"Anything I can do?" the priest asked.

"Yes, Father." the commander answered, without a hint of sarcasm. "Blessed water is always good. And a prayer wouldn't hurt."

* * *

The three cloaked figures came from the forest at dusk, just as the moon was rising. The air was damp and heavy, as the silence between them. A table with six chairs stood above a large magical diagram, drawn earlier this day. They sat at the table in silence.

Soon, the flapping of wings resounded over the air. Two flying figures and one running on all fours approached the table with speed. The three figures stood up, as the three monsters closed in.

Druella and Wilmaria landed in front of the table, followed closely by Primera.

The middle figure spoke first. "Greetings."

"Greetings to you too, commander, gentlemen." Druella replied nodding respectively. She moved to sit at the middle chair. Wilmaria took a breath to say something, but Druella interrupted her with a raised hand. "No need to protest, Wilmaria; we are here to talk."

The three figures sat on the chairs. "You can understand, we had to take those precautions. After all, this is something unprecedented."

"Many unprecedented events transpired over those months, commander. I understand." She motioned her two escorts to sit, and they obliged. Frederic took a deep breath. Now a different type of battle was about to begin.

* * *

P.S. Chapter 17 is out. Criticism welcome


	19. Chapter 18: Negotiations

The six participants sat quietly for a moment, before Druella broke the silence. "I suppose you would like to know of the fate of your agent, Alatar Moriatan, first?"

"Correct. This was the very reason we came here, after all." the commander answered.

"He is alive, and held prisoner in the castle of Lescatie. And, before you think of it, no, you can't break him out of there. He is an incubus now. He needs his wife to survive."

"Wife?" Pallanto asked.

"Why, yes. The succubus whose energy turned him. She is by his side, even as we speak. Besides, I learned of your… ritual. Honestly, I don't know what to think, that you would impose-"

"This was his own choice!" the priest protested. Frederic put a hand over the priest's shoulder, gripping it tight, but the damage was done.

"I… see." Druella's troubled tone intrigued the commander. He expected a smug smile, but this bit of leaked information seemed to trouble her even more. He decided to test Druella's intentions.

"What do you intend to do with him?"

"That remains to be seen. Needless to say, tonight's negotiations will be critical for my decision."

_Keeping your cards close, eh lilim? All right then, let's change hand._

"You wrote about truce negotiations."

"Yes, I did that. Here is a proposal, directly from my mother, the Demon Lord. I had it copied to a parchment without monster mana on it. At least not too much. The seal at the end is genuine though."

The commander opened the scroll and read through the proposal quickly but carefully. He passed the scroll to Pallanto, who did the same.

"I'll have to take this to the upper command to make use of it. I can't agree to such a document on my own."

"That is already known, commander. That is why I asked for you. After the rather spectacular way you mobilized the entire Order, your name has some pull. Your link with Alatar was the other reason."

Alatar's name raised the tension on the table.

"While not human anymore, Alatar isn't a complete incubus, yet. That puts him in a gray area on where he stands. By all accounts, he was to be put to death."

_Raising the stakes, lilim?_

"I assume you want something in return to give him back?" the commander asked.

"As I told before, he isn't coming back. He can't come back anymore. Isn't that right, commander? Or are _Forgotten ones_ welcomed back by the order?" Druella smiled.

_Damn, she knows of this. Of course she would know, she was alive even back then._

Druella's smile disappeared. "Such a procedure is an affront to our very ideology. Such a being can't exist among us, and can't exist among you. Banishing him to neutral territory would be the most reasonable punishment, if he didn't have anything else on his conscience. But he has. Many things, in fact."

"Acts of war are not-"

"Please don't try to act ignorant, commander. Acts of war are different from plain terrorism. Besides, he isn't human now. He falls under my subjects. So, here is my offer. As per the truce, I will pull back all of my forces, including those stationed at Lescatie. I will forbid the smuggling of goods and any means of subvert conversion on countries that are not willing to accept them. However..."

_Here we go._

"You will pull your forces surrounding Lescatie and anywhere else inside monster territory. All acts of aggression are to stop on both sides. And finally, you are to provide me with a way to remove the Seals of Nemesis."

"What?!"

The commander held the priest by the shoulder again. Pallanto took over. "There is an impediment regarding your last request, Lady."

"Oh? What is that? I suppose you understand, if Alatar can't become full incubus and face trial according to monster law, the solution would be summary execution."

_Damn it!_

Pallanto sighed. "The problem is, Alatar altered the procedure himself. The seals don't contain just his emotions and the like. Let's say, if the seals break, things will get… messy. Too messy."

_Your turn, lilim._

Druella's look remained enigmatic, but her mind worked furiously. He not only willingly took on the Seals of Nemesis, but he altered them himself, to be unable to undo them. That was something out of a religious fanatic's book, yet that man was anything but. She traced the scar that Alatar's blade had left on her cheek absent-mindedly. Pallanto noticed it, and went for a probing question, covered by courtesy.

"Ehm, Lady, if I may? On your cheek..."

"That? Oh, it's just a… loving reminder from Alatar when we first met. Among other things." She could almost feel the smug grins of the commander and the mage. But she would be the one smiling in the end.

"It seems that we reached an impasse regarding Alatar. No matter-"

"If I may, Lady?" Pallanto replied quickly.

"Regarding the seals, may I request to meet again here after a month? It is a matter of great importance to us as well, and something… well, unprecedented." He put on his best awkward smile.

_Quite the actor, that Pallanto. Just like his performance before the Order._

"We will try to find a way to lift those seals. After all, that was never tried, so we don't know if it can't be done. But I may need support from your mages as well."

Druella pondered a bit. "Fine, I see no harm in doing just that. After all, my main mission was to deliver the treaty proposal. We'll meet again here after a month. And without those… _unpleasantries_." She waved over the seal and the forest.

"Understood, Lady. Thank you."

"Just you, the commander, me and my mages." Druella stood up, Everyone else at the table followed suit. "So long commander, gentlemen." And with that they disappeared into the horizon.

"That went better than expected." Pallanto commented.

"Was that a bluff to gain some time, or do you really think you can do it?" The commander asked.

"A little bit of both." came the smug reply.

The commander sighed, mostly in relief. If the mage was acting this way, he had something in mind. "Fine, keep your little magic secrets. But know that Alatar's life is in your hands."

"I know. He'll never live this down, either." Both men laughted, and even the priest let out a small chuckle.

"Did you see her face?" Pallanto started talking, excited. "If he could actually injure Druella, imagine the havoc he brought upon the city! The reports claim..."

* * *

After a month, the table was set again, but with one chair less. The old man refused to participate in the negotiations, claiming that he had no knowledge on how to lift the seals, and such an act would lead only to destruction. He clearly had his own regrets on the whole affair, and didn't want to have Alatar's blood on his hands.

Yet Pallanto and Frederic were willing to take the risk. They took their seats on the table, soon joined by Druella and two new escorts. "Greetings, gentlemen. Let me introduce you to Lucella and-"

"Mimil. I see you haven't grown a day."

"Pallanto. Never thought I'd see you in a high-ranking position either."

"Well, people change, don't they?" Pallanto smiled.

"Friend of yours, Mimil?" Druella asked.

"Not friend, more like… acquaintance?"

"Still bitter over the parfait business?"

"Humph!"

Druella sighed. "I suppose not. Commander, would you walk with me and let the mages to their magic secrets? These things bore me."

Pallanto gave Frederic a reassuring nod, before laying diagrams of his plan on the table.

* * *

Frederic felt nervous, and rightfully so; he was taking a stroll with public enemy number two, the lilim Druella. If word of this ever came out, death would be the least of his worries. _They might lift the ban on the Nemesis Seals just for me._

"Don't be so nervous, commander. I feel like I am walking with a moving log."

"Pardon me, Lady, but you can understand my circumstances."

Druella laughed. The sound of her laughter caused the commander to grip his sword to keep his mind in order. It sounded so… perfect. "Yes, that I do. Times do change, though." Her face became serious. "What became of the proposal?"

"What exactly I thought it would." The commander sighed. "Infighting, councils upon councils, meetings upon meetings. The good news is, it wasn't discarded at first glance. The bad news is, it will take some time. But it progresses, and more people are becoming open to the idea. Don't take me wrong; they are fully prepared to order all-out war should it be breached in any way..." he shot a side glance at Druella "...but still, it is something everyone on the Order states has been looking forward to. I suppose the same goes for your side as well?"

"You can say that. That harassment campaign went too well for you." the barbs in her voice made the commander smile, despite himself, feeling proud for the first time. The mask was hiding his face, but he felt that Druella knew. "As long as there are no further hostilities, people are contend with the peace. The younger and unmarried monsters are restless, but they tend to blow off steam at the monster-friendly territories. So all is calm. For now."

"Let us hope it lasts. So..." there was an awkward pause.

"Alatar?" Druella asked.

"I must say, I don't know what my… colleague has come up with, or if it will work. If it doesn't, there is nothing more to say. But if it does… what of him? If he is to be sentenced to execution, isn't it just a waste of time to go through this?"

"That is not something to be decided by me alone. That man has injured many innocents, and even took out an entire werewolf patrol, as you already know. Harming another is one thing, something that can be forgiven, given time. Killing though..."

"That buy was always reckless as all hell." The commander's voice swelled with pride. "I don't know how you got him, but I can say, he must have pulled off some pretty audacious things."

"Humph! It's not wise to irritate the head judge before the trial, commander." Druella's irritation seeped from her tone. She turned around. "Come, let's see what the mages came up with. Frederic followed her, still smiling smugly beneath his mask.

* * *

"...so, in theory, we can try to weaken the seal, allowing small amounts of leaked energy to seep through and containing them. Keeping the monster mana as low as possible is essential, as any interaction with holy energy would result in violent reaction."

"This thing keeps getting nastier and nastier, the more I hear about it."

"It was his idea and his modifications. Anyway, what I will try to do is botching the seal in a specific way. I'll need devil gems. A lot of them. I've calculated a rough estimate of the energy trapped into the seals, but I may still be off."

"You know, you could just tell us of the seal directly."

"No can do. You know how it goes. I will do this myself. Which reminds me: bring mana potions. For people, not monsters. You remember how to make them, right?"

Mimil glared daggers at Pallanto in response.

"Right. The place must be without monster mana, so probably here. No need for making this an international incident."

"Finished?" Druella asked, her face still sour after the exchange with the commander.

"Yes, Lady Druella. We will meet again here, in a week, with the needed materials."

"Good. I want this resolved one way or another. Let us go."

* * *

P.S. Chapter 18 is out. Criticism welcome.


	20. Chapter 19: The ritual

"Is it him?"

"See for yourself."

Druella nodded, and Primera opened the cask exposing a man bound and gagged, and covered in paper seals.

"Dear dear me, Alatar, what a pinch you've gotten yourself into." Pallanto couldn't resist a bit of theatrics. After all, if things didn't work out, either Alatar, or everyone around, would die.

"Cut it out, Pallanto." The commander's gruff voice interrupted him. He knelt before the casket, pulling his former knight out. He carefully carried him, while Pallanto, walking beside him, filled him in.

After placing him on top of the seal, the commander pulled the gag from his mouth.

"Seriously, you could have done this a lot sooner."

"I am happy to hear your voice too, old pal." Pallanto smiled.

The commander glared at Pallanto, then turned at Alatar. "Listen, Alatar, you understand your position here? My own, and Pallano's?"

"Yes."

"I will unbind you, but you must follow your orders. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Your actions accomplished what I could only dream of. Don't let it go to waste."

"Understood, commander. I know. Just take those things off already. The pain gets considerably stronger."

The commander undid the binds, while Pallanto excitedly explained to Alatar the method he devised.

"...so, in theory, we can use the internal absorption loop on the devil gems, while at the same time, we can reverse the rotation to cause it to spill from within the seal..."

As Pallanto rambled on, Frederic turned to Druella and her escorts. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Let's get this over with."

"I'd advise you to stand back. He isn't going to run."

* * *

"All right then, time to put theory to practice. Mimil, the gems?"

The scowling baphomet tossed Pallanto two bags.

"Oww… and the potions. Thanks." He smiled. Mimil just turned her back and left without a word. Pallanto turned to Alatar.

"Listen up, pal. When the seals weaken, what will leak out isn't going to be just holy energy. It will be your emotions. If you can't control it, it will turn nasty. The… uhmmm, ladies here, and the commander, will put you down if things get out of control. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I'd hate to lose the chance to laugh at you for the rest of your life. Now, listen. The seals must be undone with the same order they were cast. Otherwise the resonance-"

"Gets out of tune and results in unstable oscillation."

"Correct. Good to know you can act smarty-pants at the face of death. That means the first thing to spill out is the emotions stuff. You will have to contain them fast, because we won't have much time after I start. The seals will get undone on their own, and in an uncontrolled manner, if we just wait. Understood?"

"Yes. Have you prepared the gems?"

"I will, just now. One more thing: use one to put all the mana that you can, without dying. If a little holy energy slips through… you get the idea. It was, after all, YOUR idea." Pallanto tossed a devil gem to Alatar. After completing the transformation of the gems, he turned to see him holding a bright devil gem, but Alatar was pale like the moon above him, and his eyes had dimmed to a washed-out pink.

"Let's get this show started. Lie down, hands extended, like a cross. And focus. Here comes the fun part."

* * *

Lucella watched the human mage from a distance, half annoyed, half amused. How could this man joke when he could be blasted to oblivion?

"He seems like an… interesting fellow" she commented.

"He's just the eternal school boy" Mimil scowled. "Annoying school boy."

"Old flame?" She asked teasingly.

"Hell no! He doesn't come even close to big brother!"

"Maybe that's how he copes with all this? Look, he has begun the ritual."

They watched as the mage placed three devil gems on top of one seal, and murmured incantations, causing the seal to glow red. They heard the pained groan from Alatar, and the sudden burst of holy energy, soon to be sucked into the devil gems. In a few minutes the small pillar died out.

"Here we go..." Lucella muttered.

The first seal broke with a blast, pushing Pallanto a few feet back. He was quick to get up, however, and knelt besides Alatar, after drinking a couple of mana potions and picking up the used devil gems.

The second seal, the Seal of Desire, released a lot more of the holy energy than before, and Alatar's pained cries resounded even louder and longer. Lucella felt the insistent pangs of nervousness; what if the gems weren't enough? What would happen if the second seal proved fatal?

The breaking of the second seal intensified her anxieties, as the blast sent Pallanto tumbling much further, and when he got up, he had a nasty gash over his left eye. However, after downing a few more potions, he placed the rest of the gems on the final seal.

"Veronica, get ready."

"Yes, Lady Lucella."

Lucella could see the mage's face as he was concentrating. He seemed… cute. In a whimpy kind of way. Her thoughts were interrupted by the almost inhuman cry of agony that came from the man beneath him. She heard Veronica sobbing, while Wilmaria and Druella stood by her. Poor thing. The light seemed to die down, teasingly slowly… until it was gone. She held her breath. The mage started working furiously, his face taut in sheer concentration. She felt one small blast, then another, then a third… he was breaking the blast in smaller ones. That was technically impressive, and quite difficult to come up with on the fly. She made a mental note to gather information about this particular mage. He might prove a threat later, or a convenient pawn.

She saw the man lean over Alatar, checking his pulse… then giving him a few rapid slaps, until Alatar deftly caught his hand. With his other hand he slapped him on the forehead, and waved at them. The ritual was over.

* * *

"Damn it there, pal, you almost got me worried! You were screaming worse than that time when I hid that urchin-"

"Thanks, Pallanto."

"You are welcome. Now you owe me _twice_. Don't you ever think I've forgotten about the first time. But all is well that ends well, right?"

"We are not at the end yet."

"Are you sure you got your emotions back? Because you sure sound almost the same grumpy old man."

Alatar smiled. It felt odd, smiling.

"I'll be sure to send you a congratulatory letter before my execution."

"Of all the things to come back, you got your sense of humor first? Oh well, who am I to judge. Look, here's your… ahem, _lady_, coming for you. I'll leave you two to your little misadventures-"

"Fuck off, jerk."

Pallanto left, roaring in laughter. The lilim and her escorts came close, Veronica running towards him at full speed. He turned to his commander.

"Goodbye, Frederic."

"Goodbye kid. Proud to have you under my service."

"That's rare of- oooofff!" Veronica collided with him at full force, topping him over, hugging him tightly.

"Well then, I'll just… leave you alone, then." The commander turned his back, shooting one last sorrowful look at his former knight. Now he was a full incubus. His violet eyes turned brighter by the second in the succubus' embrace. He turned at Druella.

"So long."

"We'll keep in touch." The lilim smiled. The ominous feeling of her smile put the commander on edge. _What plans does that she-devil have in store?_

Alatar tried to prop himself up, but proved extremely difficult, especially to his current state. "Veronica… painful… can't… breathe…." however the fair-haired succubus didn't listen, intent on just hugging him tight and burying her face in his chest, crying.

"If we aren't interrupting..." Druella's cold voice brought them back to reality. Primera's eyes showed controlled fury, Wilmaria's scowl, contempt. Now was the time to face trial.

* * *

P.S. Chapter 19 is out. Criticism welcome


	21. Chapter 20: Trial by ordeal

"Alatar Moriatan, you stand accused of: premeditated murder, premeditated assault, premeditated acts of terrorism, theft, arson and sabotage. Present your defense."

"I have none."

Silence fell across the room. The judges, Druella and her lieutenants, sat behind the large conference table, while Alatar stood before them, guarded by two dullahan. Druella decided that a public trial would cause too much unrest; an in-doors trial was opted instead, inside the palace. Only her, her lieutenants, the guards and a automaton scribe, recording quickly and efficiently on a large scroll.

"Defendant, you must present your defense." Druella repeated.

"With all due respect, my Lady" the word came with some effort from Alatar's mouth, "we all know I did all those things. With clear head, premeditated. We all know why. I was a human soldier conducting guerrilla warfare, or terrorism, as it was seen at the city. Do I regret my actions? My regret won't undo the lives I've taken, or the damage I caused. It is irrelevant. Any excuse is without meaning, given my circumstances. So, I have no defense. I plead guilty to all of my charges."

"… fine. Return him to his cell. We will announce your ruling once we finish our council."

Alatar turned and walked from the room, escorted by the guards. Once the door was closed, Druella turned at the automaton.

"Stop recording."

"This is rediculous."

"We all agree to that, Wilmaria. The problem is, what do we do now." Princess Francisca looked troubled, her tentacles waving around. "By human law, the sentence is death. But there is no precedent in monster law. Unless you count the laws from the previous-"

"Out of the question." Druella cut her abruptly. "The old laws were abolished with mother's rise. But the point is, there are injured parties here. And the public wants justice."

Primera kept silent, her wail wagging around erratically. "Going through punishments, I can't, and frankly, don't want to, see another option. Banishment is out, imprisonment is out-"

"How is imprisonment out?"

"Think about it, Wilmaria. He is public enemy number one in the city. Keeping him locked will add to the unrest. The werewolves will want blood. I don't know if I will be able to keep them in check. Nevermind the fact that he could escape-"

"He won't escape." Druella's certainty took Primera by surprise. "He knows what will happen if he tries to do anything. It looks like keeping him under lock and key will not be ideal, either. But killing him might be the worst possible thing."

"What do you mean, my Lady?"

"Primera, if we kill him, what would happen? The humans will get a martyr, a legend, we will get a ghost, and not one of the nice horny kind. No, killing him will only make things worse in the long run." Druella felt very tired. _Is this what mother meant?_

She sighed and continued. "However, imprisonment within the city does sound appropriate, if we exclude the werewolf situation. Which brings us to the question. What will the werewolf pack deem as appropriate punishment?"

Primera sank in deep thought. "While it isn't actually monster law… it is an old elven tradition. Trial by ordeal."

"!"

"Why act so shocked, Shasha? He has taken lives. This is the best I can think of, besides taking his."

"But that is so… barbaric! It isn't even practiced by anyone anymore!"

"That is what I will accept. Besides his head rolling."

"So, trial by ordeal and lifetime confinement in the city. Is anyone against?" Druella looked around. Shasha seemed hesitant, but kept quiet.

"Then it is decided. Primera, you are responsible to come up with an appropriate ordeal. One more thing, everyone." _This will be hard to say._ "While this man's actions are reprehensible, we must also consider that they were caused as a reaction to my own. That means that, for what this man did, I am party to blame."

Shocked silence fell upon the room. "My Lady..."

"It is true, Francisca. So, don't judge this man as he is the sole responsible. Primera, make sure the ordeal is heavy, but fair. That is all. Wilmaria, announce him his sentence. Dismissed."

* * *

Alatar entered the dark tunnel, the entrance behind him closing by a large boulder. The trial by ordeal he was sentenced, was simple, in theory. Enter a tunnel, go out of the other side. The thing was, this tunnel also had ten werewolves with full permission to kill, and he wasn't to defend himself or use magic in any way. The rush of emotions, kept sealed inside him for so long, felt torrential and almost debilitating. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

His eyes slowly adapted to the almost non existent light of the tunnels. Werewolves knew those tunnels like the back of their paws, while he would have to stumble in the dark. He smelled the air, trying to get a clue. _When it smells like mutt, it is mutt._ He walked low, trying to make as little noise as possible and keep his heart rate in check. The werewolves were sure to pick up his scent; he missed his cloak and mask. He also missed that sweet feeling of comfort when Veronica hugged him-

He shook his head violently. _This is not the time for this! It will make them find me immediately!_ He perked his ears and started moving forward.

Scratching the wall of the cave lightly, to keep himself from running in circles, he crouched on the ground, and felt around the cave floor. Some tracks surely had to lead to the exit. Usually the ones pointing mostly in the same direction.

Deciding his course, he kept going. A few times he thought he heard breaths, or nails scratching the floor, but he persisted.

He had lost track of time in those tunnels, but so far he hadn't had any encounters. When finally, he smelled fresh air. He was close, but he also smelled the smell of wet fur. Clenching his teeth, he rushed for the final stretch.

Then he saw them. They were all waiting for him near the entrance, eyes shining in the dim light. _Now or never._ Using one hand to protect his face, the other, his privates, he rushed forward. The calling howl echoed and magnified in the cave's corridors.

_Fifty meters._

A clawed slash cut deep in his back, from right shoulder to left hip.

_Forty meters._

Two different slashes hit his arms and his forearms, blood spurting around.

_Thirty meters._

A vicious slash hit his left calf, almost bringing him out of balance. _If they sever a tendon, I am dead._

_Twenty meters._

A slash hit his left side, tearing through flesh until the claws scraped at his ribcage. Another slashed at his right leg. _Damn! _Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the pain, stumbling towards the exit.

_Just ten meters!_

He felt two set of teeth sink into his flesh, one for each arm, while their claws pierced his torso to keep him still.

_Only five!_

Two werewolves lunged and grabbed his feet, sinking their claws and teeth into his calves and thighs.

_No… not like this… NOT LIKE THIS! _

He couldn't get what gave him strength those last few steps, though he had a hunch it was the memory to that familiar smile and eyes; the werewolves were hanging off him for dear life. However… the morning sun greeted him, along with the scowl of Primera.

Primera looked at the bloodied form before her; his eyes shone like a wild animal's. "Enough!" The werewolves' eyes turned on her. "He passed. Let him go."

The werewolves hesitated for a moment, but a warning growl from Primera convinced them all too quickly, releasing Alatar from their grip, going back to the cave, licking his blood off their claws. Primera watched them enter the cave, before turning to Alatar. "You passed the test. Your debt to us has been paid. Go patch yourself up. You look disgusting. Or appetizing, depending on tastes." She entered the cave to meet her pack.

* * *

"So, he survived."

"So it would seem."

"Still salty, Wilmaria? Why not challenge him to a duel?"

"Right back at you, Mimil. Why don't you try a magic duel. He did face Lady Druella and lived, after all."

"Nah, I'll just patch him up and send him on his merry way. He was scary enough with just some monster mana. If he were all charged up..."

"You can teach him some nice spells, in that regard. But do patch him up. Veronica will freak out if she sees him in that state."

"Will do~"

Wilmaria watched as Mimil skipped over the bleeding form of Alatar, then smiled faintly as she turned around and made her way to Druella to deliver her report.

* * *

Alatar was sitting on a bench at the park in silence, tearing through a box of weird sweets. He felt like he hadn't eaten in ages, which was true; his last meal was the one he had before confronting Druella. His body felt sore, but was recovering quickly. Mimil sure knew her stuff when it came to healing.

A group of dullahan came buy, shooting him nervous glances. It was understandable; he had neutralized an entire elite squad of them, after all. He kept munching at the confectioneries; that taste was entirely unique, just the right sweetness… maybe a bit spicy? Why was his body heating up?

His eyesight went dark, as someone closed his eyes from behind. "You do realize I can tell it's you from your mana, don't you?"

Veronica sat on his lap, pouting. "It would be nice if you played along, you know."

"Would you rather I didn't recognize you at once?"

"… no, I woundn't."

A few moments passed by.

"You know, I've never been to a relationship before. It may take some time until I get the hang of it."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "It's not a skill or some arcane science, dear. You just do what you feel is right. You can feel now, can't you?"

"Yes… I can." and with that, Alatar kissed her deeply, earning a surprised squeal from her, but quickly wrapping her hands around his neck and deepening their kiss. They broke off after what seemed ages, or too short moments. "See, you can do it!"

* * *

The sun had set when they stood outside her house. "This is where we met for the second time."

"Yes, how can I forget such an… introduction. Everyone back at the Order wouldn't stop laughing about it." Alatar felt his face heat up. Veronica giggled and snuggled on him.

"You know" she whispered in his ear, "the last time I left from here I promised that the next time I enter, I'd be in your arms..."

"Well, can't be helped then. Promises are meant to be kept."

"Whoaaa!"

"Hey there princess, no need to squirm so much." Alatar picked Veronica up bridal style and opened the door with his foot, while she clung on him with her hands around his neck. She looked into his bright violet eyes lovingly.

"Are you sure you want to keep my promise?" she teased him. He smiled.

"My part is done. I've worked and suffered enough. It's about time I thought about my own happiness. I can't be the cursed hero of the humans forever."

"You are right, honey. I'll try my best to make you happy!"

"Well, I've better shape up to make myself worthy of your effort."

She giggled. "You can start by getting inside. Holding me outside a small house making small talk will creep some of the neighbors."

"Small? Why is it small? It can accommodate the two of us just fine-" a knowing smile burst at Alatar's face, as he connected the dots. "Miss Veronica, do you imply what I think you do?"

"Maybe… "

"Then let's get right into it, shall we?" Alatar said, entering the house and closing the door behind him.

* * *

P.S. Chaper 20 is out. This has been some crazy ride. I am a fan of binge reading, and I seem to get a taste for binge writing as well. Two closing chapters remain. Believe it or not, this was done in my week off. Still, it was satisfying to write. The style and pace might be erratic from time to time, but that is probably because of the amount of coffee and the sleeplessness. If you read up to here, do me a favour and comment; that is what will get me to improve. If you find typos or grammar errors feel free to point them out; as I said before, English isn't my first language. Of course, feel free to point out any discrepancies in the plot (I tend to fuss over some seemingly small details, that may be actually big plot devices). Thank you for putting up with me.


	22. Bonus chapter: For you pervs

A/N:Warning - see title

Alatar closed the door behind him, Veronica in his arms, her hands wrapped around his neck and eyes fixed on his own. He carried her over to the bed she first found and bound him.

"This brings back memories."

"Like, what memories?" Veronica asked in teasing innocence, betrayed by a lecherous smile.

"Hmmm, let me think..." Alatar pretended to ponder. "This?" He kissed Veronica deeply, who was only too happy to respond.

"Mmmmffmmfffm" Their tongues wrestled, stroking, exploring, joining. Alatar stumbled blindly to the bed. His body was getting hotter by the second, and from the feeling of Veronica's skin, she was in a similar condition.

"Puahhhh..." they finally broke the kiss; the single thread of saliva that kept them connected broke soon after. "Well, then..."

He placed her gently on the bed, his hands stroking her body as they traveled towards her her legs. Her tail stroked the ever-increasing bulge in his pants. He gently pulled out her high heel boots, taking his time to run his fingers from her knees to her toes.

"Ahhnnnn… don't tease me honey." Veronica moaned, but she didn't sound upset.

Her tail began working furiously, undoing and pulling down his pants and underwear. Her hands removed the clothing from her chest, exposing her ample breasts with erect nipples on top, before stroking them, putting on a show.

"Oooohhhhh, hurry up… you miss the fun..."

Alatar felt his face heat up to the point where he was sure he gave off steam. With two kicks, his shoes, pants and underwear, pulled down by his wife's dexterous tail, went to the sides. Her tail immediately began working on his swollen manhood, and a sweet smell along with a wet stain came off between her legs. She wanted teasing? He'd give her teasing.

He began a trail of light kisses, with calculated slowness, from her feet, to her calves, to her inner thighs. Each kiss earned him a louder, deeper and more sensual moan, increasing the stain and smell from her entrance. When he reached near her orifice, her love juices were practically streaming down nonstop, staining the sheets. Sheer mental discipline barely controlled the incubus instinct and kept in check the urge to rip the fabric separating him from the source of the enticing liquid. He took off her panties, quickly pulling them up, before giving in to the urge and plunging his head at the now unrestricted source.

"Hyaaaaaaahnnnnnn!" Veronica squealed, with a sudden jerk of her legs shooting her soaked undergarments away. She curled her tail around Alatar's head, pushing him deeper. Her wings flapped erratically against the bed.

Alatar filled his nose and mouth, tasting Veronica's nectar like there was no tomorrow. His incubus instincts showed him the general idea, but his inquisitive mind kept trying things, sucking on the swollen bud above the entrance, softly biting and pulling it, sucking and nibbling her lower lips, pushing his tongue inside and exploring her twitching walls, feeling with his fingers inside. Veronica's breath became ever so ragged and erratic, her tail pushing him to the point it became painful. He stroked it, earning another moan. _So even the tail is sensitive._

Her walls were twitching with increasing frequency, her pants and moans filling the room, until, without warning, her tail pushed him in with all its might, her legs wrapped around his head, and her pussy started convulsing. He held her pelvis stable, as her entire body shook, her scream filled with lust.

"Aaaaaaaahnnnnnn! I'm cumming!"

Her entrance shot out hot love juice, straight at Alatar's mouth. Its taste left the confectioneries he ate earlier in utter shame, but the amount of her mana in it was something that burned on his tongue, sending his desire to levels he thought he had gone insane. He ripped his shirt, tossing it aside. Trailing his tongue from her still twitching womanhood up, stopping momentarily to take a twirl inside her navel, stopping even further to conquer the mountains on her chest and encircling their perking tips; they reached at her face, flushed and panting heavily. He attacked her neck, her ears, he trailed around her lips until they parted in submission. He felt her tail align his almost exploding manhood to her entrance, his tip feeling the wet warmth. With a final plunge, he entered both her mouths at once.

"Haaaaammmmmphhhhhhh!" Veronica's cry was sealed by his lips, their tongues resuming the previous battle. Her mouth tasted even sweeter that last time. He felt her feet wrapping around him, her hands clawing at his back, and her tail caressing his spine. Her wet tightness clamped around on his shaft, caressing, squeezing, pulling ever deeper. His tip kissed her deeper entrance, and it felt like it was kissing back. Moving his pelvis, he pumped it in and out for all it was able to, stopping once in a while to rotate it around, earning a muffled growl of bestial lust and an insane amount of tightening. His muscles burned and started protesting, but the amount of sheer pleasure covered that.

The fire in his core kept rising, feeding on his pleasure and lust, bringing a nostalgic hot throbbing ache that rose from within and began traveling down. He clenched his abdominal muscles and went for the kill. In a sudden inspiration, he let go of one of her breasts and grabbed her tail, stroking it from base to heart-shaped tip, while pinching her erect nipple and going for the final stretch in both her mouths. He felt her nails dig into his skin; he was sure to have love marks and scars. His inner dam filled quickly with his desire, until the violent convulsions of Veronica's body shattered it completely, releasing huge bursts of his proof of lust right inside her hot core, which accepted it with pulling loving embrace. He arched his back, breaking their deep kiss, growling with bestial lust. His peripheral vision whitened, his only sight the bright violet eyes and beautiful smile of Veronica. His orgasm seemed to last even more than that last time in the forest, but finally, it was over… he couldn't tell if it was seconds, minutes, months, hell, even years would seem plausible. His muscles gave out, falling exhausted on the warm soft body of his wife. The wave of comfort threatened to black out his senses; he opted to deeply kiss Veronica, her kiss even sweeter. _How's that possible? Unless, the more turned on she is, the sweeter she tastes? I'll ask Mimil later._

His muddled thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of turning around. Veronica had rolled to the side, with his manhood still deep inside her, still kissing him deeply, coming on top. She clenched her vaginal walls a few times, pumping life into his softening length. Her tail freed itself from his stroking grasp, and started softly caressing and massaging his scrotum, leaking monster mana within. Alatar felt his desire and manhood flare up again like a rumbling volcano, but his body was exhausted and sore.

Veronica broke the kiss, taking time to pass her tongue through his lips. Her flush extended down to her neck, her lovely skin an alluring shade of red. Her face was truly the stuff of desire, lust and fantasies.

"That felt great, honey… How about I do something for you? Just lie down and try to endure..."

She ran her hands around his torso, making circular motions around his nipples and navel, scratching lightly the valleys between his abs. She leaned back, and started moving her pelvis in a circular motion, attacking his pole from all different angles with the feeling of her soft walls. She put her hands behind her to steady herself but that only accentuated her chest, and Alatar's hands were quick to respond, cupping them, massaging them, kneading into them softly. Her breath picked up pace, in tempo with is, until Alatar couldn't bear it any more; with a light tug, he pulled her body on him.

"That's unfair, Veronica."

She giggled. "All is fair in love and sex."

"Fine, it's your win." He sealed her retort and smug grin with a deep kiss. His hands traveled across her back, caressing every spot, following the groove in the middle, even her wings, until he reached the base of her tail. Sensing his intentions, Veronica started slamming her hips up and down, taking his length, while her hands teased his ears. Alatar was not to be deterred, however; his hand firmly secured it, along with a strong grip on her ass, while the other started a slow stroke that went the entire tail, flattened against her back, all the way to the tips of her horns. His hips started responding again, gaining in vigor, slamming his manhood into her in tempo with her own frantic shaking. Veronica's breath, desperately pumped in and out through her nostrils, tickled his face, now rife with sweat. Both their bodies were damp with it, making the colliding sound even more lewd. The smell of it was getting heavier, but it wasn't unpleasant at all, to Alatar's incubus senses. Veronica suddently broke the kiss; the amount of air she needed to keep up clearly wasn't enough, so she started panting heavily through her mouth, hanging her tongue, licking the sweat from Alatar's face like it was honey. Her breathing became all the more erratic, until with a final slam, she clamped down on Alatar, who accentuated her orgasm with his own exploding manhood, and a slight tug of her tail.

Her twitching form clamped around his body, her face buried in his neck, the muffled moans tickling his skin.

After an seeming eternity, her breath calmed and her twitches stopped. She rose her face to meet his, drowning in his bright violet eyes. "That was unfair, hubby " she pouted.

"Isn't all fair in love and sex?"

She sealed his own smug grin in a deep kiss, her tail pulling a blanket to cover them both.

* * *

P.S. Bonus Chapter is out. I think it is somewhere among high treason and heresy, to write a 20-chapter long fanfic in the MGE universe with only one lemon. So, here, to appease the Fallen God, the mad Sabbath cultists and the Demon Lord, I present to you a full-chapter lemon. Enjoy.


	23. Epilogue

"There you are. I wondered when you ran off to."

The wizard's cloaked form leaned by the chapel's entrance. "Isn't it time for our monthly escapade, commander?"

The priest scowled. "Excessive drinking is-"

"Yes, yes, Father, I am aware of it." The mage raised a hand in apology. "But a glass of wine per month is hardly excessive. Care to join us?"

"No. I'll offer my prayers and sleep. Maybe tonight She will offer me the peace I pray for." The priest opened the chapel door and stepped in.

"Suit yourself." the wizard threw, earning the slam of the door as a response. "Come now, Frederic, I have a nice aged bottle that will turn into vinegar if we don't hurry."

The wizard and the knight strolled through the streets, entering a small inn. The innkeeper nodded in recognition, motioning to a waitress to show the two men to a private room, where a table was set with glasses, plates and a big plate with steaming pork roast.

"You like to prepare things in advance." Frederic commented.

"You know me." He pulled a dusty bottle from a seemingly small pouch. Frederic raised an eyebrow. "Alatar's last gift. Pretty handy, isn't it? Especially for bringing things to and from Lescatie."

"So, how is he doing?"

"Same old, same old. He is still confined to city limits, but he doesn't seem to mind. Had a lot of hickeys on his neck, mind you." he smiled.

The commander grunted, filled his glass, and emptied it in one gulp. "How about you? It isn't easy, covering your disappearances, you know."

"Yea, about that… the research is proceeding smoothly. I even copied a few good books from Lescatie's library. But I am beginning to get spooked every time I set foot in there. That skimpy little goat, Lucella, has been giving me weird looks. I asked that brat Mimil about it, but she just shrugged and muttered something about bad tastes. Whatever." Pallanto pulled a scroll from the expansion pouch. "Here's a gift from Alatar. A trap contraption he claims can neutralize Ryu."

"Well, that is interesting."

"Well… don't get too excited. He said it isn't for killing her, just get her too horny to do anything. I swear, that guy..." he took a sip from his bottle. "So, when are you going to break the news to Father? It isn't easy or nice, leaving him to stew in his own misery like that."

"Soon, I hope. Let's pray he takes the news calmly."

Pallanto laughed. "Yea, right. I can already picture him chasing you around the chapel, trying to smite you with that heavy book."

Frederic's scowl was soon replaced by a troubled look. "You know, I never got around asking you about the unsealing business."

Pallanto smiled. "If it was mad? It was. If it was suicidal? Sure as hell. But impossible? I had my doubts, and so did Alatar. That's why he had holy energy trapped inside. The point is, with the seeds of corruption already sown, the holy energy would be depleted, sooner or later. He was a first case, but he left a lot of useful notes. I … ehmm… _accidentally _mentioned that to Mimil. She should have come to the conclusion I hinted. The procedure is now perfected. If those… ladies decide to break the treaty, they know what's coming to them. And Alatar's little campaign sure put the fear of steel and magic to them."

"That boy..." the commander's voice hinted his pride. "Well, he found his peace. We found ours. Heck, even the monsters found theirs. For now. Let us hope it lasts."

"I don't hope, Frederic. I _know._ That's why I am a wizard."

"Don't get cocky kid. I may actually send for Lucella to turn you into a kid and rape you for all you're worth. In public."

* * *

"Keep your eyes closed."

"What is it? You got me all the way somewhere, god forbid, but this is getting weird." Veronica complained.

"Almost there. Here, open them."

They were standing at the forest, at a seemingly random location. "Recognize the place?"

The canopy still had some gaps, showing pieces of clear blue sky.

"Isn't this where-" she said, looking around.

"Yes. When we first joined. I thought it would make a nice place for the occasion."

As Veronica turned to Alatar, she saw him kneeling with a ring made of gold adorned with intricate carvings, and a shining devil gem on it.

"Veronica, will you marry me?"

She lunged at him, knocking them both down, with a screech "YEEEESSSSSS!"

She kissed him deeply, savoring his taste again and again. "You know, you have a talent for breaking every law in the book."

"Why is that?" Alatar asked, mildly amused.

"For starters, it is the wife that brings a ring to her husband. And the proof of marriage is what we did here, that time."

"You know, I couldn't give a flying fuck about the rules. You told me to do what I feel is right. That's what I do now."

"Where did you get the gem? Those are expensive."

"That is the gem I filled at my unsealing. Mimil let me keep it."

"So, how are you going to further break the rules?"

"A wedding ceremony at the temple? Sounds about normal. Say, can I call Druella and company? That would be pretty audacious."

"Careful now, Alatar… you are full incubus. Lady Druella could have you fucking me non-stop for days."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

They both smiled and kissed.

* * *

P.S. Aaaaaand the epilogue is out. I hope I got right the final closure - I hate leaving loose ends. Unless I intend to continue them in another fic. In any case, this concludes the series. As my first fic in this universe, and first series for that matter, your criticism is welcome. GeorgeTI out.


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